


Light Fills the Vessel

by Red_Tremor



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Master/Pet, Passion, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 89,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Tremor/pseuds/Red_Tremor
Summary: As the relationship between Stephen Strange and his wife Clea breaks down, he finds solace in the most unlikely of places. The head servant of the Sanctum, who has knelt at his feet since she was a child, is no longer a child. She has kept his secrets, accepted his flaws, tended his wounds, calmed his wife, drawn his baths, made his bed...but he has never truly seen her. Until now.
Relationships: Stephen Strange/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 81
Kudos: 61





	1. Wild Pigs and Witches

The little silver bell in the corner of my room chimes. My eyes open slowly to focus on the ceiling above me, the vestiges of a dream I was enjoying fading from my mind. It is morning, and morning means a plethora of things. There’s work to be done.

I rise from the bed and carefully make it, smoothing the rough linen bedspread woven by hand in Nepal. I wash my face in the sink and brush my long hair back into a ponytail, then swiftly braid it down my back. There is only time for a quick sponge bath, not a full shower. Mistress Clea is awake earlier than usual, and I’ll need to hurry to respond to her summons. It would never do to be late. Not for the Mistress of the household. I pull a work dress on over my head and yawn, trying to force my sleepy limbs into action.

Just before rushing from the room, I slip my soft shoes on and trot down the hall and up the broad sweeping staircase to the master bedroom. I tap lightly on the door and wait a few seconds before entering.

“You called for me, Mistress?”

There is an otherworldly princess lounging in the bed, her mane of silver hair like moonlight against the indigo sheets. Master Strange is not here. His side of the bed is made and has not been slept in. I know for a fact that he spent the entire night studying in the library again. How he manages to exist on such little sleep is something of a mystery.

Clea languidly waves her hand toward the bathroom.  
“Draw me a bath. And have you finished mending my red dress? Stephen wants to take me to the opera tonight and I want to wear it.”

“Yes Mistress. I’ll bring it up to you after I’ve pressed it.”

“I really don’t know why he bothers taking me out on dates like this. He knows how dreadfully dull I find this city. I’m BORED here! And he’s always studying and brooding about the halls. It’s becoming quite tiresome. I may leave for the weekend just to find something fun to do.”

“Yes Mistress.”

I slip into the elegant marble bathroom and spin the taps, turning on the hot water to fill the large tub.

I used to do this for her husband, but she’s forbidden such things now. All the female servants in the house have been told to keep well back from the Master, to become all but invisible. Don’t speak to him. Don’t make eye contact. We are not allowed to be alone with him. We are not allowed to touch him. Gone are the days when they would trim his hair, draw him baths, help him shave, rub his feet and shoulders and back. Long gone are the walks he would sometimes take with the staff, the chess games, the conversations they’d have about philosophy, religion, medicine. I am the head of the servants, and they bring me their sorrows. They miss it all. They miss the stories he would tell, they miss his laughter and his joking. They miss the Master they’ve served since most of them were very young. Only I am still allowed limited contact. Clea trusts me, because I am never rude or disobedient, never anything but hardworking, efficient, and respectful. Alone among the seven females of the staff, I have never been on the receiving end of her temper. I have never been threatened. I have never had anything hurled at me.

While the water pours, I return to the bedroom and begin picking up Clea’s discarded clothes. They’re all over the floor, as usual. And she’s still speaking. With practiced ease, I swallow my anger at the little insults she flings at her husband, and I simply listen.

“He’s so stuffy all the time lately. Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here at all. Oh, you’re so terribly lucky not to ever have to worry about relationships! They’re troublesome things, full of all sorts of rules and such. It must be absolutely freeing just being a little servant and not having to make any decisions or worry about other people’s feelings. You just do as you’re told and life is simple.”

She gets up and stretches, lithe and graceful as a cat, and tugs off her purple nightgown to toss it casually to the floor. Naked, she saunters past me into the bathroom and regards herself in the mirror.

“How CAN he stay busy all the time when THIS is waiting for him?”

“His work is important, Mistress. He’s the Sorcerer Supreme after all.”

She glares at me in the mirror, and I bite my lip. Lowering my eyes. Bracing myself.

“I didn’t ask your OPINION. Simply stating a fact. You’d think a man would have some basic needs, not just reading and being dour. Now wash my hair.”

“Yes Mistress.”

She steps into the bath and sits down with a huff, settling back against the lip to allow me to begin working on her hair. She is lovely, truly lovely. And I am plain and uninteresting in comparison. She knows this. She is always aware that she’s the most beautiful woman in the room at any given time. And it pleases her to receive attention for her beauty. Princess of the Dark Dimension. Wife of Stephen Strange. Sorceress. She has all the power, and I have none.

I know why my Master has been spending so much time alone, and it has little to do with a need to study. He is burying himself in work to keep his mind from the unpleasant truth that his wife is disrespectful, childish, demanding, and unfaithful to him. He is no saint either. But in my eyes, he can do no wrong. He is lonely and sad at times, withdrawn as he solves the riddles of the multiverse. My duty is to wash his sheets and iron his clothing, not to speculate as to the nature of his inner thoughts.

It takes an hour to wash Clea’s shimmering hair and help her select an outfit to wear for the day. By the time I leave, the room is tidy again and she is fussing over herself in the mirror above the makeup table. I return to the kitchen and assemble breakfast. Eggs, sausage, toast, freshly squeezed orange juice. A large pot of tea. I place everything on a tray and then smooth my hair down and pinch my cheeks to bring them a little color. I wear no makeup, as is custom for servants of Kamar Taj. And my work dress is plain and loose, allowing for freedom of movement as I tend to the needs of the Sorcerer Supreme and his household.

The library is on the top floor, down the right and at the end of the hall. One of many libraries, but it is his favorite. I push the door open and slip inside, carrying the tray in my hands.

And there he is. Sitting at a desk, bent over an open tome with fitfully glowing pages, deep in concentration.

The most powerful, honorable, brilliant man in all of existence. My Master, Doctor Stephen Strange. I bring the tray to his desk and set it down on the edge, the tension falling from my heart as easily as rain down a windowpane.

“Good morning, Holly.” His voice is deep, velvety, calm. It goes straight to my heart.

“Good morning, Master.”

“My wife is finished with you, I take it?”

“For the moment, sir. I’ve brought you breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

He sits back in the chair, closing his eyes for a few moments wearily. Without a word, I move behind him and rest my hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension in the muscles and tendons. Respectfully, I begin to massage the ache away with strong hands. Clea isn’t here. By some unspoken agreement, all of the woman’s rules against touching him are suspended when we are alone.

“She is…..looking forward to your date at the opera tonight.”

“Don’t lie to me, Holly. You’ve always been very bad at it.”

“I’m sorry sir.”

A little while passes in silence, and when he finally reaches for his tea I leave off the massage for a few moments to let him drink it. Morning sunshine is pouring in through a stained glass window, casting little squares of jewel-hued light in a pattern across the desk and the floor and the left side of his face. I would, in this moment, give anything to be a particle of sunlight fractured by colored glass, just to touch that cheek.

“It’s a very romantic gesture, sir. I’m certain she’ll appreciate it once she’s there with you.”

To his credit, he says nothing. Not a word about the fact that his wife doesn’t appreciate anything he does at all these days. A little while passes in silence. He leans forward, and I massage his neck while he rests his head on his hands. I cannot even imagine the level of stress that he’s dealing with on a daily basis.

“How many times have we fought in the last month? Surely you must have been keeping count. Surely you've heard all of them. You're a quiet girl and you keep your head down, avoid the rooms that we're in unless you're requested, but you're not deaf. You're not oblivious. You must know.” He pauses, sighing. “Wong must know too.”

It's an awkward moment. I don't want to make it seem that I've been spying...but I do know the exact number. I clasp my hands in front of me, looking at the floor.

“This month alone there have been seventeen fights, sir. And she hit you twice.”

My voice is soft, sad. Its tone is matched by the look in Master Strange’s eyes when he opens them and turns to look at me. I want to say so much. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that he deserves joy, not unrest. But I don't. I don't have an outburst. My eyes move to his hand, and I reach into my pocket for my tube of lotion. If he doesn’t exercise his hands and massage them daily, the scar tissue could become too rigid. In the early days of their relationship, Clea would lovingly rub his palms and fingers, laughing. Playful. But those days seem a world away. I come forward, lifting his left hand with both of mine.

“I'm sure she loves you in her own way, Master. She's just very....volatile. I mean no disrespect.”

“Volatile is one way of putting it.” He pauses, watching me as I begin to rub his hand.

“Yes Master.”

For a few minutes, I massage his right hand. Working lotion into the scar-roughened skin, stretching his fingers, rubbing his palm. It’s important, and it’s being ignored like so many other important things in the face of his rapidly disintegrating relationship. They were in love once, he and Mistress Clea. They saved one another’s lives, and love bloomed from the connection. I remember vividly the day she came to us, injured and freshly liberated from a hellscape which I cannot begin to comprehend. We’d placed her in a guest room. I tended to her daily, washing her wounds and bringing her food. Master Strange would spend hours with her, simply talking or sitting nearby in silence. Fascinated by her. Enthralled.  
Eventually, she moved into his chambers. And the door was closed.

I stayed to the ground floor then, letting the lovers explore the mysteries of their own emotions and needs and physical attraction as they saw fit. I played endless games of chess with Master Wong, and if he saw anything behind my eyes that didn’t belong there…he said nothing.

That was long ago. Years. And in the interim I have had to watch as the love that bloomed between my Master and his interdimensional half-Faltine wife withered on the vine. Both of them have strayed, seeking solace in the arms of others. After bad fights, Mistress Clea storms off for days. My Master occasionally seeks comfort and connection with friendly acquaintances and beautiful strangers. Strangers and acquaintances whose clothing I launder and place, folded, outside his bedroom door in the morning. Women for whom I summon cabs. Not often does the same woman appear twice. And it is not a common occurrence by any means. All of these transitory companions look me over with a haughty sort of annoyance, until they realize that I am nothing but a servant. And I keep watch for the return of my Master’s wife, discretely alerting him when high heels click through the great hall and a silver haired beauty returns with fire in her eyes.

“Tell me, Holly. If you were in my wife’s position, how could I win you back? What gift could I give you that would soften your heart? Tell me how to make my wife love me again.”

I rise to my feet, moving to his other side to kneel down and take his left hand into both of mine. I don’t meet his pale gaze.

“It’s not my place to venture a guess, sir.”

“I insist.”

“Yes, Master. Perhaps you could bring her on more of your adventures off-world. The two of you fell in love during a time of adversity. Maybe she needs this excitement in her life to reignite her passion.”

He muses on that for a few minutes, pushing the food around on his plate with a fork. He’s losing weight. Stress has robbed him of his appetite. There are shadows beneath his eyes that were not there a year ago. I dispense more lotion onto my fingertips, and work it into his hand with long, slow strokes. His knuckles are abraded on both hands. He’s been punching the training dummy in the basement, practicing his martial arts and working out more than usual. And with more vigor than before. The sight of the sore-looking injuries sends a jolt of protective anger through me. I have said nothing of my resentment towards his wife to anyone. Not even to Wong. Not even to my fellow servant Ming, my best friend in the world. After having served Master Strange for so long, I know better than to risk his displeasure. Gossip would upset him, and anything that upsets him is counterproductive.

I can feel him looking down at me, and I lift my hazel eyes to meet his blue-green stare. There is pain in his expression. I want to take his face into my hands and kiss his brow, his cheeks, the weary places beneath his eyes, and tell him that he is perfect. Despite the rare infidelities, despite the brooding and the hours in the library, despite the flashes of anger that occasionally take him. I want to speak, and I can’t.

“How long have you served this place?”

“I came here when I was twelve, sir. That makes it eight years now.”

“Quite some time. What do you do on your days off?”

“I don’t take my assigned days off, Master. That’s not how I was trained.”

He looks puzzled, then surprised.  
“In eight years, you’ve never had a real day off? Seriously?”

I say nothing, looking back to his hand. The truth is, I don’t want to take a day off. There is too much to be done to keep this place spotless and organized and running smoothly.

“I go for days without seeing you sometimes. I always thought you were out exploring the city, going on dates, living your life.”

“A good servant is invisible. And I do not explore the city except to buy groceries and supplies. My life is here.” I pause, finishing with his hand and putting the cap back on the lotion. “I never date. I have no interest in dating.”

“You’re what, twenty now? A girl your age should have suitors. I never expected you to stay indefinitely. It was always my understanding that the moment you found a husband, you would leave and someone else would be sent to me.”

Can it be that he really is as oblivious as this line of questioning would imply? I rise to my feet and reach out to refill his tea cup with fresh hot water from the ceramic pot.

“That day will never come, Master. My duty is to the Sanctum. I am married to my work. This brings me joy.” It’s far too intimate a question to ask him given the strained nature of our relationship these days, but I find myself blurting it out anyway. “What brings you joy?”

“I'm happy when I'm strolling along on the street, and I'm just passing people that are rushing on their way to buy something or to meet someone. I enjoy seeing people living their lives, and I'm happy just seeing everyone at peace.” He looks out the window, watching the lights of an ambulance race down the street a few miles away. I wonder what he’s thinking. In the entirety of my life, I have never met anyone as aloof and unreadable as Doctor Stephen Strange. Sighing, he rubs the side of his temple.

“Spring is my favorite season because there's color everywhere, and there's still a chill in the air from winter, so even though everything is bright, it's not hot. People are starting to come out of their homes, and everyone is active, everyone is happy because the weather has improved. My happiness is heavily influenced by those around me, mainly because I used to be so self-absorbed that now I feel the need to make up for it. And of course, I’m happy when my wife is happy. I don’t think she is, though. I don’t think she’s been happy for a very long time.”

  
‘Then she’s a fool’, I think to myself. But of course I don’t say such a disrespectful thing out loud. I move around the desk to sit, straight-spined, on the edge of the chair before it.

“Your staff are happy. Master Wong is happy. And I am certain that in time, your wife will be happy once again. All relationships go through difficult phases.” I pause, watching him pick listlessly at the breakfast before him. “You’ve…done nothing wrong, sir.”

  
“We both know that isn’t true.” He sighs, and finally takes a bite of toast. Thank God. I force myself to smile, to relax back into the chair. Things are getting too serious and he’s not cheering up. The day will be hard enough for him without that added burden.

“Let’s play our game, sir.”

He glances up, swallows, and nods once. I fold my hands in my lap, thinking. Then I lean forward to speak to him, and my voice is low and serious.

“Yesterday, there were wild pigs loose in the kitchen. They broke my favorite serving dishes and ate all the vegetables.”

“Oh? How many pigs?”

“Nine pigs, sir. And the largest of them chased me until I had to jump onto the counter! What happened to you yesterday?”

Master Strange’s eyes twinkle as he smiles. I feel a swell of relief and love move through my whole body, and I smile back.

“Yesterday? Oh, it was terrible. I was arrested downtown because I resembled someone wanted for armed robbery. The handcuffs were too tight, and when they threw me into the back of the police car, they ripped my sport jacket. The smaller of the two officers kicked me in the leg.”  
“The scandal! But my day was still much worse. After the pigs were chased from the kitchen, I burned the bread and accidentally cut off my own finger with a carving knife!”

“I was murdered four times in jail.”

“Murdered! I’m so glad they left your face untouched. A goblin broke through the window of my bedroom at the end of the day and tried to seduce me. He brought a bouquet of goldenrod, and I sneezed so hard that my eye fell out.”

“I was skinned alive by a coven of witches. Then the largest and fattest of them wore my skin like a cape and danced around a bonfire. It was the only thing she wore. I wished in that moment that I had more skin to cover the rest of her.”

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. Losing this round fair and square.

“Master, that’s beyond disgusting! You’re getting frighteningly good at this. Really, I wonder about the books you read. It might be time to switch to something more pleasant.”

He settles back, smiling, and lifts his fork to dig into the eggs. I pat the desk.

“It’s good that you’re eating. You’ve lost weight, sir. I’ll need to take your clothes in if you keep at it, and I really can’t be bothered. You’re cutting into my nap time.”

“I would hate to rob you of your beauty rest.” He takes a bite and wipes his neatly trimmed goatee with the napkin. “I’ll eat a decent lunch and dinner, I promise.”

“See that you do. While you shrink, Wong is growing. I’m beginning to think the two of you are tied to one another somehow. It’s a very romantic thought.”

“Please! Keep your voice down! No one needs to know how pretty I find Wong.”

We’re laughing, the tension falling away completely, and for a few minutes it’s like it used to be. The colored beams of sunlight glisten on his dark hair and the attractive silver streaks at his temples. I love my Master. I loved him the day I met him, with the innocent devotion of a twelve year old. And I love him now.

“Well! You two seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

The laughter dies on my lips, and across the desk Master Strange’s smile fades. It is Clea, of course, leaning against the door of the library looking more beautiful than any human female ever could. She saunters into the room and drapes her arms around her husband from behind his chair, pressing her lips against his cheek. Her violet eyes bore into mine, and I rise from the chair.

“Now that I’ve brought you breakfast, I need to attend to my other duties sir. Mistress Clea, I will bring your gown up to the master bedroom and hang it on the bathroom door. Although you look exquisite dressed just as you are. No one will be able to concentrate on the opera.”The compliment seems to mollify her, and she straightens up.

“Thank you, Holly. That will be all. You can leave us.”

“Yes Mistress. Thank you.” I bow my head, nodding to Clea first. Then to the good Doctor. “Master. I bid you both a good morning.”

  
I leave them there together, listening to the soft sound of their voices fade as I descend the stairs. A few moments later I am in the kitchen, washing the pots and pans from breakfast.

There are no pigs to chase me today. I have all ten of my fingers. Master Strange still has his skin.

I cover my face with soapy hands, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. He is miserable.

So am I.


	2. Shards in the Heart

“Don’t you ever get tired of winning?” I grumble, reaching out to re-set the chess board. Across from me, looking quite pleased with himself, Master Wong waves a black bishop at me.

“Never. Haven’t been playing this game for thirty years just to lose to a little girl.”

“Master Wong, I’m twenty!”

“Still a kitten. Even though you act like an old woman most of the time. Want some more wine?”

Without waiting for my answer, he pours a bit more into my glass.

“I’m underage. That’s a felony, you know. I should turn you in.”

“Add it to my list of sins, Holly. How many am I at so far?”

I accept the glass, taking a sip as I carefully place my pawns in a row on the white squares.

“Oh, easily over four hundred by now. My tell-all book is going to be a bestseller for sure.”

Wong chuckles, watching me set up his chess pieces too.

It is nine o’clock at night, and we’re alone under the Window of the Vishanti after a day of chores for me and studying for him. Both of us are in our pajamas. My duties are over until morning, unless I’m called for. But the Master and his wife aren’t even back. I’ve turned down their bed, stoked the fire in the bedroom, lit incense and laid out their night clothes. A bottle of champagne in a chiller to one side should they want a nightcap. Everything has been seen to. I hope that whatever friction might have arisen between them during their evening out will be eased when they find the room to their liking.

We are seven moves into the next game when Ming comes running up the stairs, breathless.

“They’re back.”

Wong nods, concentrating on the chess board.

“Good, good. Hope they had a fun time.”

“I…don’t think so, sir.”

I start to rise to my feet, but Wong stops me.

“Don’t. Don’t you get in the middle of that. You doing well. Keep your head down, just do your work, haven’t ever made her really angry. She knows magic. You don’t. Stay right where you – “

There’s a smashing sound, and then we can hear the shouting from down below us. Ming darts over to get behind Wong. He pats her hand when she rests them both on his shoulders.

“I’m not going down there, Master Wong. I’m just going to wait, and then clean up whatever it is that’s been broken before one of you winds up with a shard of priceless artifact lodged in your foot.” I whisper.

“…..didn’t HAVE to even drag me to that boring useless WASTE OF TIME, anyway!”

Ming looks at Wong, her almond eyes filled with anger.

“I could kill her in her sleep. Holly wouldn’t even need to get involved.”

Wong smacks her hand. “Stop that talk right now. By the Living Tribunal, you are too feisty for your own good. I don’t want to have to rush to your rescue. Then she’d come after me too.”

“Only if I failed. That bitch – “

“Is married to your Master. Show respect.”

“I will when she shows Stephen some.” Ming snaps, her temper rising.

“…..don’t show even a modicum of respect for me, Clea! Sometimes I wonder if you….”

“See?! Even he notices it!” Ming is practically hissing. Out of all of us, she’s definitely got the strongest emotional response to all this unrest.  
I get up this time, and evade Wong’s reach. Walking carefully to the top of the stairs, I simply grip the bannister and listen. Behind me, Ming is outlining her plan to smother Clea with a pillow while Wong tries to shush her.

If I lean over just right, I can see the two of them down in the foyer. Two figures facing off against one another. I wish Master Strange would back up a pace. He’s within slapping range.

“When I met you, you were exciting and dashing and we were setting the universes on FIRE! And now LOOK at you! Just a pathetic shadow of a man who spends all his time in the library!”

“I have things to learn, Clea. There was a time when you understood that, and didn’t make demands. You used to understand me.”

“You’re impossible to understand! And impossible to trust! The MOMENT I walk out of here you’re calling some cheap WHORE – “

“Like you’re the pinnacle of faithfulness. I’m lonely, dammit. Half the time I don’t do what you think I’m doing with them. It’s enough to just have another person in the room.”

“THEN CALL ONE OF YOUR LITTLE SLAVES!”

“MAYBE I WILL!”

I close my eyes, groaning. Only one of them is allowed to raise their voice, and it’s not Master Strange. Predictably, there’s the sharp *CRACK* of her hand against the face that I love.

Well then. That makes three times this month now.

Without looking, I put my hand out to grab Ming’s wrist before she can run down the stairs and possibly get herself killed.

“Stop. Just…just wait.” I whisper to her. Behind us, Wong is on his feet as well. He puts a strong hand on both of our shoulders and begins to steer us toward the side staircase, back to the servant’s quarters.

Reluctantly, and only because she can’t disobey a direct order from a Master, Ming allows him to move her. I turn and gently, respectfully move his hand. And I take it in both of mine and kiss it.

“Take Ming. I need to be here for the aftermath. You know I won’t lose my head, sir.”

Wong hesitates. Down below us, it’s gone silent. Then we can all hear Clea snarl at her husband.

“You’re a bastard, Stephen Strange. I wish I’d never met you!”

“WE WISH YOU HADN’T EITHER!” Ming shouts. Wong picks her up and all but runs for the side stairs. There’s the sharp staccato sound of high heels.

“WHO SAID THAT?! WHICH ONE OF YOU NASTY LITTLE BRATS WANTS TO DIE?!”

“Clea! Don’t you DARE!” Master Strange is right behind her.

For such a large man, Wong is faster than a rabbit. He’s got Ming the hell out of there before I can even register what’s about to happen. I back up a few steps, but I’m not fast enough.

With Master Strange hot on her heels, Dormammu’s niece is running up the stairs, her right hand raised. A purplish glow hovers around her fingers. When she sees me, she stops a few steps below me. Her eyes are narrowed with rage.

“Mistress Clea.” I say calmly, my heart hammering in my chest. “How was the opera?”

“Don’t you dare stand there in your jammies and act like nothing’s happened. Who shouted at me?!”

“It wasn’t I, Mistress. I was playing chess with…. (but Wong is long gone)….with myself. Perhaps one of the others on another floor shouted.”

But I am, as Master Strange well knows, a terrible liar. And Clea can smell it. She comes closer, a cat about to pounce, and her beautiful face is only inches from mine. Her melodious voice gone low and deadly.

“You think I’m blind, don’t you. Well I’m not, Holly. I see the way you look at him. You’re nothing. You’re a slave. And you need to remember to keep to your place, or I’ll happily put you in it. Is that understood?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Master Strange wisely says nothing, knowing that a single word could ignite the argument all over again. I look into Clea’s eyes, forcibly softening my voice as though I faced an enraged tiger and not a slim woman two inches taller than me.

“You’ve had a difficult evening. Why don’t you let me make you some tea before bed? There’s no need to be upset. No one here is your enemy. You know that the staff are just as loyal to the Sorcerer Supreme as you are. They are deeply protective of him. Some of the younger girls don’t have the best control over their emotions. Please, let me soothe your hurt feelings.” And I punctuate these gentle words with the ultimate weapon, one rarely used. “Your Majesty.”

There’s a long silence. Clea seems to be on the verge of slapping me next. But finally she huffs out a sigh. The violet haze around her hand dims, and is extinguished. Master Strange puts a hand on her arm, but she jerks it free.

“Don’t touch me! Come, Holly. You can make my tea. And I’ll need a massage after all of this. Stephen, I’m sure the library is calling to you.”

  
“Actually, that sounds like a capital idea.” He responds, his voice tight. I don’t dare look at him, although I can feel his eyes on me. My lips curve into a false smile, and I take Clea almost tenderly by the arm and lead her back down the stairs. Around the smashed vase on the floor. Through the foyer and into the kitchen while my Master storms off to the library to brood.

The next three hours are the longest of my life.

I make Mrs. Strange’s tea, deftly adding a dollop of brandy ‘to ease her nerves’. I warm up fresh bread and spread homemade butter on it. I sit across from her and silently listen to her litany of complaints, hand her napkins to dry her angry tears, even pat her hand.

After this, we retire to the master bedroom and I warm oil over a candle in a small dish while she undresses. Most of the fight is out of her at this point, and she settles onto the bed with her head pillowed on her arms, sighing unhappily. I bring the warm oil over and drizzle a little onto her perfect back. I’ve massaged her for nearly an hour before she speaks again.

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Respectfully, Mistress, that isn’t true. He loves you more than he has ever loved a woman.”

“Then why does he ignore me for days at a time? Why do I have to put up with his infidelities?! I KNOW I’m not faithful either! I KNOW I started it! But I was dazzled by a rogue mage! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“He’s impossible! I don’t know why I stay!”

“Take a few deep breaths, let the tension out. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight. You need sleep, Mistress. Would you like me to stay with you?”

She lifts her head a little, flashing me a watery smile.

“You’re a good girl, Holly. No. I’ll be alright here alone. And I do wish to be left alone tonight. Bring the champagne over and open it. When you see my husband, please tell him I don’t want to be disturbed.”

I do as I’m told, noticing with a detached kind of interest that my hands aren’t shaking as I uncork the champagne. I pour her a glass and bring it to her as she slips into a purple silk robe.

“I will tell him, Mistress. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, that will be all. You can go. I’m sure you’re tired. Clean up that crap at the base of the stairs, it’s a mess.”

“I’ll sweep up the shards right now.”

And then I’m stepping into the hall, pulling the door shut behind me and standing still for a few seconds. Still eerily calm, I descend to the front hall and fetch the broom and dustpan. The shards of the vase tinkle softly as I push them into the dust pan. When I rise to my feet, I look around the vast room cast in shadows. Mysterious, as all things in the Sanctum are. It is a perfect place.

I take the broken mess to the kitchen to dispose of it. Then I make another pot of tea. Arrange some cookies on a plate. Fill a separate glass with cold milk.

My mind wanders as I work. I hope Ming is alright. Wong was an absolute hero tonight, and he probably saved her life. I can’t imagine the talking-to he’s probably delivered to her. But they’re very close. She’s his personal servant just as I am Master Strange’s. We came at roughly the same time, and were the first. I’m sure all will be well by morning.

Carrying the tray in my hands, I walk silently through the mansion to the grand staircase again, and I begin the long climb to the library.

  
I don’t say anything when I come into the room, but I do close the door behind me. It’s a holy place, this particular library. All the most sacred books are kept here, lining the walls and the shelves, some of them glowing softly. I don’t call out for him. I simply walk through the rows of books until I come to the alcove where he sits looking out the window, Levi floating restlessly beside him. I set the tray down on the low table beside him and move to kneel on the sofa at his side.

What can I even say? There’s nothing. So I do something I have not done since I was thirteen. I put my arms around him and rest my forehead on his shoulder from behind.

After a moment, I can feel his scarred hand gently cup my forearm.

“Thank you for doing damage control. I trust you’ve calmed the situation down?”

“Yes Master. She’s calm now. But I’ll need to make up the guest room for you. The sheets are already fresh. I just need to light a fire and some candles and incense. Make it comfortable for you.”

He says nothing.

As far as fights went, it hadn’t been a truly bad one. I wonder why the Master of the Sanctum puts up with such disrespect. He doesn’t deserve it. And the infidelities she brought up? It’s not as though it happens every week, or even every month. She’s been far less restrained. Far less discrete. Far less discerning.

I move around to sit in the armchair to one side of the sofa, gently pushing the try towards him.

“Eat. Drink. You need your strength. Ming made the cookies just this afternoon.”

“I don’t want a cookie, Holly.” He sighs. But after a moment, he reaches for one with a hand that will always tremble, and breaks it in half, holding me the larger piece. I don’t deny him this simple act of solidarity. We take turns dipping our cookie halves in the milk.

  
“It was Ming who shouted. Master Wong got her out of there.”

“I thought so. I know the voices of all my servants. And that is what you are, Holly. Not a slave. Not ‘nothing’. You’re an indispensable part of this household. My wife can dismiss you from her presence, but she has no power to dismiss you from your job. Only I can do that, and I have refused on countless occasions to send any member of the staff away. For most of you, this is the only real home you’ve ever known. Even though you’ve all been keeping your distance from me for some reason, I still consider you as much a part of my family as Wong is.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, sir.”

His cheek is red where she struck him. But his skin isn’t cut, at least. I’m grateful for that. Sometimes she turns her rings around.

“I assume you were playing chess with Wong?”

“I was, yes. He’s very good, and never lets me win. I like that he doesn’t let me win. It means that when I do finally take his king, I will have truly earned the honor.”

Master Strange nods slowly, and takes a bite out of the cookie in his hand. I reach out and touch his arm.

“May I speak freely, sir?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to no matter what I say.”

“No. I’ll keep my silence if you ask it of me. I respect you, Master. Your wishes are my laws.”

“Alright, Holly. Speak freely.”

I lower my voice, just in case there are listening ears about.

“The staff haven’t been keeping their distance because they’ve stopped loving you. Your wife made her displeasure at our familiarity very clear. We have some young girls here, like Amara in particular, who are very timid when it comes to direct threats. In response to this, I instituted some rules for only the female members of the household. They are to stay back from you, not touch you, not speak to you, not be alone with you, never come to your chambers unless called for. Only I am permitted to continue caring for you, but in a very limited capacity. Your wife trusts me. And I won’t have the staff members under me subjected to abuse. Sir, Amara was six when her parents died. She was taken in by Kamar Taj and taught the art of servitude. At eleven, she was sent here to you, a great honor. Do you remember the day she first arrived?”

“I do. She was so small, none of the work dresses would fit her. She ran to me and hugged me. Wong thought she was precious.”

“Yes. She hugged you so tightly that you said she was like a starfish trying to open a clam. You called her Little Starfish after that. You asked her to write down her birthday, and one day that made her sad. And you gave her special attention on those days. She wrote down the day she was born and the day her parents died. You took her to the zoo, the aquarium, the museum. Bought her shiny things and stuffed animals. She would bring you your breakfast every morning, careful not to trip over the hem of her dress, and push the door open without knocking and rush in to greet you.”

Master Strange closes his eyes for a moment, lowering his head.

“Let me guess. She was told to stop that.”

“Yes sir. Clea threatened to cut her throat if she came to your room again. Amara ran to me sobbing and threw herself into my arms. I held her and soothed her. Then I sent for Master Wong. I told him what was happening. He calmed Amara down beautifully, made her laugh, told her that she would have to bring him breakfast every morning now, and he was very happy to have her all to himself. When she wandered sadly off to her room to wash her face, he turned to me and told me I would need to handle the situation. So I did. I called a meeting, and I instituted the rules. That’s why you have male servants attending you more often than not. Because for three years, I have protected my staff.”

Agitated, he tosses down the other half of his cookie and rises to his feet, pacing. Levi immediately floats over to attach to his shoulders, hugging him. I fold my hands in my lap and wait patiently in silence for the tall sorcerer to process the new information.

At last, he stops restlessly walking, his hand on a book shelf. Without turning around, he speaks to me.

“Tell Amara to come to me tomorrow afternoon in the courtyard. I’ll have lunch with her, and apologize. And Holly?”

“Sir?”

“Lift the rules. All of them. I will deal with my wife and her petty jealousy. Thank you for coming to me with this. The morale of the household is important, and it’s not her place to make decisions about my staff. It’s mine. There is only one Master of the New York Sanctum. I’m tired of the disrespect.”

“We all are, sir.”

He turns to look down at me, and I meet his gaze evenly, lifting my chin slightly. Still calm. Still somehow managing to hide my emotions. But I can feel the strain of stress beginning to fracture my resolve. I’ll need to be alone soon.

“Ming shouted. She was angry, and I don’t blame her. I was angry too. Why didn’t you shout?”

“I never raise my voice, Master.”

“No. You just keep count of the fights and the physical blows, and bring me cookies in the middle of the night.”

“What do you think would happen to me if I raised my voice to your wife? She’s a powerful sorceress from another dimension with enough energy in one hand to snuff out my life. She would not even really need magic, since you’ve been kind enough to teach her martial arts. She could kill me, sir. She could wipe the floor with every member of this household except you and Wong. But it’s not fear that stills my tongue no matter how angry I get. It’s the desire to protect you. I do it for you, Master Strange. I am the only one allowed near you, and it’s because Mistress Clea tolerates me. She sees me as nothing but a very obedient servant. I treat her with nothing but respect and compassion. You have a universe to safeguard. Let me handle the running of the household. It’s why I’m here. Now I will tell the staff that they may come near you again, but you will forgive me for insisting that they do so cautiously. I won’t risk their safety. Just as you wish to protect the denizens of this planet, I wish to protect the seven women and two young men who serve this house.”

He moves to sit down again, nodding, and picks up the discarded chunk of cookie. I take another bite of mine too, and we eat in silence for a little while.

“Ming has a lot of courage. But so do you, in your way. I respect that, Holly.”

“Thank you sir. You flatter me.”

“No flattery intended.” He picks up another cookie and breaks this one in half too. I take a piece and nibble at it. “My wife seems to think you might be in love with me.”

“A ridiculous thought, sir. You are absolutely hideous. Sometimes I have to drink a cup of rum before coming to you just to endure your presence.”

  
He laughs at this, relaxing. Enjoying the banter. After a moment, he looks at me with a smile that melts my heart.

“Stay with me for a little while tonight?”

My entire body stiffens, and ice seems to fill my chest and stomach. Some of the color drains from my face. In eight years, he has never treated me as anything but a cherished servant. I don’t know what to say. How to feel. A large part of me wants to whisper ‘yes’, and climb into his lap. Another part of me wants to rise to my feet and coldly tell him that I am not one of his high priced escorts. And yet a third part of me wants to break down into tears and cover my face.

His expression clouds with worry.

“What is it? Are you alright, Holly?”

I’m already fighting back tears, to my horror. But my voice only shakes a little when I answer him.

“You know that I will, sir. Although I’ve never been with a man before, and I’m sure I’ll be a vast disappointment.”

“Oh! Oh God, no! Holly, not like that! Dammit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” He pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning. “I should have worded that better. What I meant was, I’d enjoy talking to you a little more. I’ve missed our talks. You make me laugh and you’re not trying to hit me or hurling perfume bottles at me from across the room. You’re sensible and calming and I just…I would really prefer to have you nearby. Just for an hour. I wouldn’t try anything. You should know me better than that by now.”

Warmth returns to my cold body. I reach out with both hands and take one of his between them.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry! I completely misunderstood. Master, I would love to spend an hour, or even more than an hour with you. There is no one in the world I would rather be with tonight, or any other night. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. I feel like a fool. You’re twenty. I’m more than twice your age and your employer. It would be inappropriate of me to abuse my position and take advantage of you. I’d never do that.”

Is it the late hour? The sip of brandy I had in the kitchen with Clea earlier? The effects of a cookie dipped in milk? I don’t know. For the rest of my life, I won’t know what overcame me in this moment. But I move forward to sit beside him, and I dare to lay a hand on his cheek.

“I wouldn’t care of you were an eighty year old factory janitor. My answer still would have been yes. You must forgive a frightened virgin her hesitation, though. It’s not polite to expect me to be sophisticated. I was raised on a farm.”

He blinks those pale eyes, completely taken aback and at a loss for words. Embarrassed, I can feel a blush rising in my face. I pick up the tray as I get to my feet.

“I’ll bring this to the guest room in the east wing. Please come when you feel ready. The room will be prepared, and I will be there to talk with you until you fall asleep. Thank you sir.”

And I scurry out before he can respond.


	3. Warmth and Whispers

It takes him an hour to come to the guest room.

I’ve lit the fire, the incense, lit the candles around the room. Laid out a pair of pajamas brought up from the wash, a clean robe and tunic and pants for the next day. I’ve turned down the bed and set out mulled wine. The room is completely in readiness before the door finally opens, and Master Strange steps in. He closes the door behind him and turns the latch, and I rise to my feet from the love seat by the window to bow to him.

“All is prepared, sir. Would you like me to draw you a hot bath? Afterwards, I could give you a massage. I did it for your wife, after all. It would be lazy of me to deny you the same courtesy.”

Levi detaches from his shoulders, flying to the cloak rack I’ve set before the fireplace to warm him. When I come forward, the glow of the flames turns my unremarkable brown hair to dark gold fire. But if there is anything attractive about me, I am unaware of it. I hold out my hand, beckoning to the Sorcerer Supreme to come to me, and be comforted.

And after a few seconds, he does. Silently, I lead him to the love seat and urge him to sit.

“Finish your tea and the biscuits, if you wish. I made a fresh pot, the other was growing cold. I’ll draw you a hot bath now.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because you are good to all of us, sir. Relax now. I will tell you when it’s ready.”

And I leave him there in the candlelight, lifting the cup of tea to his lips. Looking at the fireplace, lost in thought.  
I turn on the taps in the bathroom, pouring hot water into the claw-footed tub. Tonight will not be like other nights. I have decided that. Tonight, I will draw a chair up to the head of the tub, and I will wash his hair and pour warm water down his back and over his shoulders. Tonight, I will heat oil and massage his weary body before he falls asleep. Tonight, he will know that he is honored and treasured and loved…even if it is only by a servant. Tonight, the Master of the Mystic Arts will be properly respected.

I’ll see to it personally.

When the bath is finally full, I emerge into the bedroom and wipe my hands on my pajamas. I hadn’t had a chance to change back into my work dress.

“Master? Your bath is ready.”

“You don’t have to do this, Holly.”

“I know. Come. I’ll wash your hair.”

“My wife would kill you.”

“Then I’ll die horribly, and hopefully there will be enough left to bury at your feet when she kills you three seconds after me. Come.”

And he does. Hesitantly, yes. But he appears in the doorway and after a moment’s pause he begins to remove his clothing. I have seen him naked before, of course. Not in a sexual manner. I have tended to his wounds, I have bathed him, I have massaged him, I have rubbed his body with ice packs when the fevers of astral battle wrack his corporeal form with stress. And I do not look away when he disrobes before me now. He needs this. Needs to be touched and comforted and pampered and shown devotion. I still feel the strain of holding back my emotional response to the stresses of the night, but the moment I move to the head of the tub and pick up the shampoo bottle…I feel a little better. I know what to do. Simply serve him, and do not think any deeper than that.

He steps into the bath and settles down with a sigh. I lift a small silver basin and dip it into the steaming water, then gently tilt his head back to pour a stream through his dark hair. One hand on his forehead to keep it from flowing into his eyes. I haven’t done this in over three years. We don’t speak to one another, but I’m certain that we’re both keenly aware of how long it’s been. My fingernails scratch his scalp pleasingly, and I rub his temples with soap-slicked fingers to ease the pressure and tension he’s surely feeling. Not only are the rigors of his unique profession extremely challenging, he has a disgruntled wife to contend with as well.

Gradually, his muscles relax. I rinse his hair, help him to lean forward a little so I can wash his back, then roll up a towel for him to rest his neck against when he reclines in the warm water. He sighs, and I rise from the chair to kneel beside the tub. Those beautiful eyes open to regard me in silence for a few moments.

The feeling of wanting to cry is rising in me at an alarming rate. I brutally pinch the flesh of my thigh to focus my mind on something else. Anything else. And it works. I swallow, hard, and force a smile.

“Would you like any tub toys to distract you, sir?”

Master Strange laughs, the most wonderful sound in the world. It’s genuine, and he lifts his damaged hands to rub his face with a little water. I hand him a washcloth.

“Even as a boy I didn’t see the point of tub toys. The bath was for washing, not playtime.”

“What a sterile childhood you must have had, to produce such a boring man in adulthood.”

“I’m sorry my life isn’t as exciting as you’d like. Perhaps when I become an 80 year old factory janitor, you’ll be more impressed.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it. I can’t wait to bring you your breakfast and listen to the tales of this or that stubborn stain on the floor, and how you cleverly managed to eradicate it and save the factory from grime.”

Again that husky, deep laugh. I can feel the tears receding from my soul, the painful lump in my throat growing smaller. Anyone would melt at the sound of his amusement. We look at one another, pleased, a look that friends share after many years and many trials faced together.

“What would I do without you.”

“You’d manage, sir. Master Wong would be able to wash your hair for you, I suppose.”

“That’s a little too vivid an image. I doubt I’ll be able to get it out of my head now. Thank you.”

“Call it male bonding.”

“We bond over chess and a shared hatred of black licorice. We don’t need to bond over which shampoo I ought to be using.”

“For you? Something moisturizing. You have very thick hair.”

“I’ll remember to tell Wong that.”

We are quiet for a little while, just the occasional ripples in the water when he moves. I glance up at him, and his eyes are closed. Quietly, I rise to my feet and move to the window, opening it to let in the fresh night air. I wonder what opera he took her to. I’ve never seen an opera, never listened to any sort of operatic music. Were the costumes beautiful? Surely Clea appreciated the sound and the sight of such grandeur. He's taken her to museums and to the symphony, to new and exciting other worlds that no human eyes have ever seen. He's conjured water spirits to play with her, flown her to the Moon, taken her through time itself to explore history. He has laid the universe at her feet, and himself as well.

Still she is not happy.

I open the curtains and look out across the long distance to the New York skyline. I have never even been to the city itself. It’s not necessary, I’m not his driver and I only run a few errands. I find myself thinking about simply taking a walk with him by the shore. Not headed anywhere in particular, just ambling along together. Content to be in one another’s company. Talking or not talking, as we saw fit.

He would be dressed casually, in jeans and a t-shirt, his favorite hoodie on over the ensemble, zipped to the middle of his chest. His dark hair shining in the sunlight. I would not be in a shapeless work dress, for a change. Something else, something comfortable. Leggings and a sweater, maybe. Or a skirt and boots, a light jacket on to keep the chill away. Maybe we would laugh together, and he would take my hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And the wind might blow a little bit, causing me to shiver. He would unzip his hoodie and drape it around my shoulders, his arm around me, smiling. I would tilt my face up to look at him in thanks. Maybe he would touch my cheek, really seeing me for the first time. Maybe he would lean down, slowly, his eyes on my lips…..

I forcefully slam the door on my own mind, digging my nails into my arm to force myself to come back to reality. Another little self-inflicted wound to add to the collection. How dare I. How dare I even consider such thoughts, when he is married and in love? I’m not the only female by a long shot who entertains such fantasies about him, but I should be the last person to do so. He is not to be objectified as the fodder for a childish fantasy.

My hands are shaking, and I look down at them curiously. A tear forms in my left eye. Then another in the right. She could have killed me on the stairs. She was about to. I know what the purple glow means, I know the Fire she can conjure at will. I know the pain she could inflict on me.  
Would he have stopped her? Or is his love for her and his dazzlement so great that they would eclipse the protectiveness of a Master over his servants. I don’t want to test those waters. He's been kind to me, far kinder than he is with most people. Pressing my luck would be to abuse that kindness.

“Holly?”

I hurriedly wipe at my face and turn, coming back to fetch a towel from where I’d draped it over the rail near the fireplace to warm.

“Yes Master?”

“I’m ready to get out. Thank you.”

“But of course.”

He rises from the tub and steps out onto the thick mat beside it, and I wrap the towel around his waist and fetch another to dry his hair and body. Of course he could do these things for himself. He usually does. But doing them for him seems somehow right this evening. I reach up to dry his hair, and when our eyes meet I smile.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, Holly.”

The redness on his cheek has subsided. I don’t want a slap to be the last thing it felt. Gently, I pat his face with the towel. A lump in my throat again.

“Lean down a moment? You’re far too tall.”

Obligingly, he does. And I press a furtive kiss to that cheek.

“There. Next time, stand back a pace for God’s sake.”

Master Strange smiles, lifting a hand to touch the place, and he shrugs.

“I’ve taken far worse damage. She didn’t mean it.”

“Of course not, sir. No one who genuinely loves you would ever harm you on purpose.”

That brings him to a full stop for a moment, and he’s still deep in thought as I bring over his clean pajamas. I don’t need to dress him, he takes the clothing into his hands and moves to the bed to sit on the edge of it, bare-chested and perfect. I turn away to kneel down and drain the tub. Not looking. Not letting myself look. For the past two years, my childish crush has only gotten more unmanageable. Turning gradually from hero-worship into genuine respect and admiration and love. At least, I think this must be love. I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone. But if I love Ming, and I love Wong, and I love Amara…then I most certainly love my Master.

He tosses aside the top half of the pajamas, and clad only in the soft pants he moves to the open window to look out as well.

“The Moon is beautiful tonight. I noticed it on the way home. Full and orange on the horizon. It’s well risen now, and looks so much smaller above us.”

I finish wiping the tub and deposit the towels in the hamper, and I come to stand beside him at the window. It’s been a long day, and we are both tired. But I don’t want to go. And he makes no move to dismiss me.

“It’s a perfect Moon. This is April, so that would make it the Grass Moon. Correct?”

“Yes. Wong has taught you well.”

“You taught me that, when I was thirteen and writing poetry and I’d fallen in love with the Moon. I used to sit on the roof, and once or twice you would join me there and tell me about the sky.”

He nods slowly, his pale eyes still trained on the brilliant orb that haunts the darkness above us. I touch his lower back.

“Ready for your massage, sir?”

“It’s late. You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. If you can bear to have my hands on you, that is.”

“I’m sure I can endure it somehow.” He sighs in mock resignation, and flashes me a smile.

A half hour later, as I smooth the warm oil up and down his spine in long strokes, I can tell from his breathing that he’s asleep. I keep rubbing, not wanting to wake him. Knowing that when I stop, he will feel the change and his body will alert his mind to rouse him from slumber. I put the moment off as long as possible. Two hours later, though, I am falling asleep on my feet. I falter, and his eyes open. He rolls onto his side and touches my wrist.

“Thank you, Holly. Please get some rest. And sleep in tomorrow morning. Ming can handle the breakfast.”

I bow to him, still not wanting to leave. But he’s dismissed me, and I don’t want to argue that I’m perfectly awake and can tend to him all night.

  
“If I can remember where my room is, I’ll certainly stay in it for a bit. Is there anything else I can do to please you, sir?”

There’s a petite pause, and we regard one another.

“No, that will be all.”

“Yes sir.”

He rises to his feet, and I draw back the covers on the bed. Within moments, he’s situated beneath them, sleepily blinking at me. I rest a hand on his shoulder.

“I could stay if you wanted me to. On the couch, just there. So you’d have another person in the room.”

“I highly doubt my wife would believe you stayed on the sofa all night.”

“I highly doubt she’d notice. She’ll be in bed until noon at the least. I’ll be up by six.”

Again, the hesitation. But finally he sighs.

“Thank you, but no. I couldn’t ask that of you. Besides, the last time we slept in the same room together you were twelve, and there was a terrible thunderstorm. I sat up with you to comfort you all night. There’s no storm tonight, and you’re of age. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“As the Master of the Sanctum wishes, of course.”

“Rest well, Holly.” His eyes close, and he shifts to lie on his back.

I move toward the door, but before I lay my hand to the knob his soft voice stops me.

“You know I can read minds when I wish.”

A sheet of ice moves through me, and I don’t turn around.

“Yes. I…I do know.”

“Tomorrow, after your chores are done, you and I are going to run an errand in the city that you’ve never been to. I’ll show you one of my favorite spots. Wear something appropriate. We will be going for a walk together at least once a week from now on. Is that understood?”

My heart seems to stop beating in my chest. I turn around, but he hasn’t opened his eyes.

“Yes sir. I look forward to it.”

“Good night, Holly.”

“Good night, Master.”

And I slip out, feeling as though I am floating.

In my bedroom a little while later, I collapse on the bed. A little delirious with joy and exhaustion. My hands are soft from the bathwater and the oil. My spirit is soft from his words. A trip to the city! Tomorrow!

But if he was able to read in my mind that I’ve never been there and longed to go…what else did he read? Does it matter? Do the silly emotions of one of his servants trouble him, or are they beneath notice? He has much, much more to deal with. And he is a very busy man. Little things don’t enter into his world. This must just be his way of thanking me for the extra attention I’ve offered today.

My last thoughts before I close my eyes are of him, and the way he looked at me in the lamplight. It was not the usual benevolent glance. I may have imagined the slight warmth. I hope I did not. I suppose I’ll simply wait, and allow things to play out as they will.

It is the only way of living that I know.


	4. Memories and Mimosas

“Well I would have just kissed him.” Ming tells me, up to the forearms in soap suds. It’s nine in the morning, and we’re just finishing up the breakfast dishes. We are completely alone in the kitchen. The rest of the staff have their chore lists for the day, and have dispersed throughout the house to complete them. I let Amara bring Master Strange his breakfast, since he was in a separate room and the coast would presumably be clear. Clea isn’t awake yet. The dragon slumbers.

I sigh, drying a spatula. When I’ve finished, I add it to the pile beside me and reach for a wet pan.

“He’s married, Ming. And we don’t have that kind of relationship. I’m probably still just a girl in his eyes, not a woman. Besides, it’s not proper for a woman to make the first move.”

“Oh that’s garbage. I made the first move with Joseph.”

“You what?”

Ming grins, soaping a plate. Oblivious to the wide-eyed look I’m giving her.

“I kissed him.” She says simply, and glances up to look out the window, a far-off gleam in her eyes. “He and I were in the library, and he was telling me how aggravating it is that I don’t listen well, and I just grabbed his face and kissed him. That was about a week ago.”  
I can’t even form words for a few seconds.

“You….you KISSED Master WONG?!”

“Only on the lips.”

“Ming!”

“What?! He’s handsome and I adore him. No one saw. He’s a terrific kisser. I’m as old as you are, there’s no harm in it. We had a lovely evening.”

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD.” I set the pan down and cover my face with my hands.

“You’re so dramatic. He’s a man, not a statue. He has needs. Well, so do I. We haven’t gone farther than kissing yet.”

“What happened right when you did it? When you just grabbed him and…and…”

“He was shocked, then he said I was exasperating and impossible. Then he pulled me into his lap and kissed me again. You should try it.”

“With Master Wong?!”

Ming slowly looks at me as though I had a plant growing out of the top of my head.

“Wow. You’re immensely naive, Holly. No! Not with Joseph. With Stephen.”

“We really shouldn’t refer to them by their first names. It isn’t respectful. And I’ve already told you I can’t do such a reckless thing! He’s married to Mistress Clea.”

“Barely. Come on, they spend more nights apart than together anymore. She storms off to do Heaven knows what and he summons a friend for the night.”

I lower my hands, looking at her.

“How did you know about that? I always let them in through the side door, after you’ve all gone to bed.”

“This place never fully sleeps. I was sneaking to the kitchen for a snack when I heard voices. I heard you talking to someone, so I eavesdropped.”

There is only one escort I ever spoke to. And only once. I remember the exact night it happened. Of all the possible evenings for Ming to be nocturnally wandering….

“What did you hear? How do you know I didn’t have a friend over?”

“You don’t have any friends besides me. And I didn’t recognize the other voice. So I listened, and I peeked around the corner. You were saying something about how she was intelligent and ‘Master Strange must enjoy speaking with her’. She was sitting at the table and you’d made her tea or coco or something. You were sharpening the cutlery and you sat across from her. She laughed when you made that comment and said that he was ‘a lovely man, very handsome, and a generous lover.’ Then she said that they never talked about anything, and he probably didn’t even know her name. So I kept listening. Her name’s Lisa and she’s only working as a fancy escort to put herself through college. She wants to be a marine biologist and she has a fish tank in her bedroom with an octopus named Hank. She said you had nice hair and you two talked for a little while, then you told her you’d call her a cab and she said not to worry about it she’d just text her friend to pick her up down the street.”

At this lengthy revelation, I grip her arm.

“You’re going to forget you ever saw or heard a thing, alright? Promise me!”

“Oh come on. I wouldn’t tell a soul! Look, I love Stephen like a father. He’s the one who got me out of the Hong Kong Sanctum and had me transferred here all those years ago to act as a personal servant to Joseph. They said the meanest things about me there.” She frowns. “Can you believe they even accused me of STEALING?”

I think about her collection of spoons and other shiny objects. But she’s not exactly a thief. She just…collects.

“Oh Ming. This is awful. If you know, I wonder who else does.”

“Well I mean, Clea yells at him about it so I’m pretty sure everyone knows. But you’re good. You’ve been really sneaky. It must break your heart when it happens, though. Hey, next time why not send the girl away no matter who it is and go up there yourself? You could wear nothing but a robe and just drop it to the floor when he asks you what you’re doing in his bedroom at two in the morning.”

“MING!!!”

“You really need to grow a pair, Holly.”

“A pair of WHAT?”

“I should do the robe thing to Joseph some night.”

“Oh my God!”

By the time we’ve finished the dishes, it’s nearly ten in the morning. Amara trots in, her hair slipping free from her braid, her tiny body practically vibrating with restless energy the way it always does.

“I get to have lunch with Master Strange today!” She informs us excitedly. I smile and come to her to tuck her hair back up again with a few bobby pins from my own braid.

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Won’t That Woman murder you if you go near him? I thought she said she’d slit your throat.” Ming says in a low voice, her forehead creased with worry. Some of the happiness seems to die in Amara’s eyes, and I hasten to dispel the fear.

“Actually, I need to address the whole staff today. Master Strange has been informed of the rules I put into place, and has asked that they be repealed. He will have a word with his wife and keep her from slitting any throats. You’re safe, Amara.”

“If that bitch comes anywhere near you, I swear honey child, I will…..”

Master Wong appears in the doorway, and Ming falls silent. She flashes him a cheerful smile as though she hadn’t been plotting against Clea a moment ago.

He beckons to me, and I hand Ming the last bobby pin. Letting her tend to Amara’s unruly hair.

“Yes sir?”

“There’s a woman coming over in about an hour to see Stephen, she’s writing a biography of him and has some more questions. She’ll only be here an hour or so, before lunch. Need you to keep Clea busy. She sort of hates this woman. So just keep her in her room occupied with something. You know the drill.”

“Are you mad at me?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Ming guffaws, and I bite my lip.

“I mean….yes Master Wong. Yes of course. I’m sure I can think of something.”

Wong puts a hand on my shoulder, tugging me out of the room and guiding me toward the hallway. When we’re out of earshot, he stops.

  
“Everything go alright last night? Sorry I left you there. Had to get Ming to safety.”

“I completely understand, sir. You did the right thing.”

“I was afraid she’d get her ass kicked. You, not so much. You’re good at calming Clea down.”

“My luck held out for another night. She was glowing when she came up those stairs, but I was able to mollify her a bit I think.”

“You tend to Stephen after?”

“Yes of course.”

Wong nods, straightening up. And he folds his arms across his broad chest.

“Good. Good. Someone needs to. Must have done a good job, he was happy this morning. Even smiling. Usually he’s not after one of their fights.”

  
“It’s my job, sir. Just as Ming’s job is to see to your needs.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, she does a good…a good job. Ah. Yes.”

I try to hide the smile that rises to my lips, and I’m more or less successful. But Wong spots it anyway. He sighs.

“She told you.”

“I’m sure I don’t have a clue what you mean, sir.”

“Yeah ok. You suck at lies. Ming told you.”

“She is the soul of discretion.” The smile breaks free for just a moment, and I lower my voice. “Joseph.”

“Now you gonna make fun?”

“I would never! I believe that what you decide to do is completely up to you, and none of my business, sir.”

  
He purses his lips, studying my face for any indication that I might be about to tease him for the clandestine library kiss. I manage to keep a straight face, looking at him seriously.

“Ok. It’s not against any rules that I know of, anyway. Kamar Taj been turning a blind eye to what Masters and servants do since the days of Agamotto. You just keep it to yourself. And try to get Ming to behave in front of people, can you? She’s a handful.”

“She very much is, sir. But a handful I am happy we have here. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

There’s the tinkle of a bell in the kitchen, and I look back over my shoulder. Leaning just a little to see which one it is. There’s a line of them. One gold, one silver, and one bronze. It’s the silver one.

“That will be her, then. Was there anything else, sir?”

“No. You go. Have a good time with your best friend up there. Yell for me if you need anything. Stephen will be in the study with that author lady. Miss Blessing. He wouldn’t hear you if you were in mortal peril.”

“You think so little of my abilities.”

Wong gives me a hug, patting my back.

“You kidding? No one else stands as much of a chance of survival as you do. Go. Run. Bring her some food, keep her busy. Ok?”

  
I wonder exactly what I’m attempting to keep Clea from seeing, and why this ‘Miss Blessing’ woman can’t just handle her inquiries over the phone. My life, I decide as I return to the kitchen, is about as complicated as a Gordian Knot.

Ten minutes later, I’m entering the Master bedroom with a breakfast tray and another bottle of champagne. I beam at Clea, who is lounging in an armchair looking out of the window. She looks over at me as I set the tray down on the small table.

“After the rough night you had, I thought it might be nice to start the day with some mimosas. I’ll even join you if you like.”

“I suppose that would be enjoyable. Go ahead, pour. I’m going to get dressed.”

She gets up and glides to the walk-in closet, her every movement poetry. I uncork the champagne and pour two large glasses full, adding perhaps a quarter of a cup of orange juice to both. Clea speaks to me from the closet, and I can hear her sorting through her vast array of outfits.

“Did you visit my husband after you left my room last night?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Mmmm, I’ll bet. Still a virgin?”

I take a deep swallow from my cup and top it off again.

“Yes Mistress.”

“He’s just the paragon of morality, isn’t he? That was rhetorical, Holly. You don’t need to ‘yes Mistress’ me again.”

I take another swallow. Fine, harpy.

A few minutes pass and she reappears, looking model-perfect in a skin tight white dress with blue and purple flowers near the hem. A silver arm cuff wrapped around her shapely bicep. She comes over to me, picking up her glass, and notes that the level in mine has been somewhat depleted. Her violet eyes fix on my face, and she cocks a perfect white eyebrow.

“Rough morning already?”

I don’t even know what to say to that. I wait for her to sit, and then I take a seat as well. She picks a raspberry off the plate and pops it into her mouth, then holds up her glass.

“To morality.”

I clink mine with hers, sighing.

“Morality.”

A good chunk of time and a full bottle later, she’s giggling as I tell her about the early days of my training.

“….and the head servant, Uttara, was teaching this class of beautiful brown skinned girls and one gangly white girl how to fold a fitted sheet. Standing in front of us, fussing with the corners, making it look ten times harder than it needed to be just to show off her intimidating folding skills.”

“Oh, they sound intimidating indeed!”

“I was nearest the window, trying to pay close attention, when movement caught my eye. Out in the courtyard, the most impressive looking man I’d ever seen in my life was walking across the flagstones surrounded by Masters, speaking with one of the Elders. He had white skin, like me, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Of course, Uttara noticed that I wasn’t paying attention. She said my name twice, coming over to me with the sheet in her hands, and asked me what was so terribly fascinating out the window. So I pointed, and I asked who that man was.”

“Let me guess.”

“You’d guess right. She told me ‘That is the Sorcerer Supreme, Holly. The Master of this place and the protector of your reality.’ I was absolutely in awe. I’d heard the stories, of course, but this was the first time since I arrived that he was visiting. The first time I’d ever seen him. I must have looked shocked and impressed, because Uttara’s voice softened and she smiled at me. She said ‘He is to be your Master one day. You’re being trained for the New York Sanctum, where he dwells. But you won’t be going anywhere unless you can fold a fitted sheet.’”

We both laugh, and I pour the remains of the bottle into her glass. Clea raises it to her red lips, amused.

“He does cut quite the figure, doesn’t he though? I remember the first time I saw him. On his way to get himself killed by my uncle, or so I thought. I warned him to be wary. I really did try. When he entered into battle, I assisted him. I really couldn’t help myself. He’s just so….I don’t know what the word I’m looking for is. He’s handsome, and strong, and decisive and courageous. He was different in those days. More dashing and less complacent.”

“This is a time of badly needed peace and rest, Mistress. Things won’t always be so.”

“Hmph. Boredom, is what it is. I wasn’t made for this. In my own Dimension, I was a warrior princess. I could go back there again, you know, and be Queen. Rule the Dark Dimension, bring it to order.”

I hold my breath, looking at her. How it would break Master Strange’s heart to lose her. But might it not be for the best after all?  
My eyes flick to the clock on the wall, and I’m surprised to see that an hour and a half has gone by.

“I need to return to my kingdom as well. The kitchen, to make lunch. Will you be taking it here? I could bring up the tray myself.”

“No, I thought I might actually join Stephen.”

Internally, I cringe. A variety of swear words threaten to form in my mind, words that I’ve only ever heard but never uttered myself.

  
“He’s actually…going to be having lunch with one of the staff today. A meeting.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“Just one of the younger ones. You know how eager we all are to feel that we are valuable. It’s kind of him to take the time to maintain staff morale.”

He was going to have a word with his wife about the lifting of the rules! But now I find myself in the horrible position of possibly having to do it. Wong might be incorrect after all, I really could die today. I hope there is indeed enough of me left to bury.

“It’s one of the females, isn’t it. Oh for pity’s sake! Is there no one in the world who doesn’t fall for his charms? He really shouldn’t encourage any of you to persist in your silly little crushes! It’s certainly not how slaves and masters related where I come from.”

She is rising to her feet, striding for the door. Quickly, I follow her.

“Mistress Clea, I’m sure it’s nothing! He’s simply being polite!”

But she’s flinging the door open, stepping out into the hall and heading for the staircase. I trot after her, attempting to at the very least slow her down. I’m supposed to be keeping her busy!  
Voices in the foyer. Clea comes to a halt, narrowing her eyes.

“…been such a pleasure speaking with you, Stephen. You certainly are a fascinating man.” Female. Flirtatious, a little too much so. Falsely girlish.

“Thank you, Morgana. It’s been a fascinating life. Hopefully far from over.” Polite. Distant. Restrained.

Oh no. The biographer is still here.

  
Clea is already clicking down the staircase, but I stay right where I am. Out of sight.

“Well now, what a delightful surprise. Morgana dear, what are you doing in our home?” She hisses. And for the first time since she arrived, I almost find myself rooting for Clea. The openly flirtatious tone annoyed me too. But I hold my breath and just listen.

“I believe you know my wife.” Uncomfortable. Resigned. Slightly annoyed.

“We’ve…met.” Uncertain. Nervous.

I retreat hastily to the master bedroom to gather the tray and bottle. Should things turn unpleasant, the last thing I could tolerate right now is to listen to more fighting. I am just tiptoeing down the side staircase when I hear the front door close, and Clea’s low, aggravated voice cuts through the momentary stillness. Oh well done, Holly. Really fabulous. I had one job this afternoon.

In the kitchen, I deposit the tray on the counter and call for Ming. Whatever is happening in the front hall, it hasn’t erupted into a shouting match. We’d hear it from here if it had. I am ready to go out there if need be, soothe Clea somehow. Maybe a tranquillizer dart would do the trick.

Ming carries the tray out to the courtyard for Master Strange and Amara. I am keeping myself scarce after failing to keep his wife and his guest apart. But I won’t be able to avoid him forever. We have plans this evening when I’ve finished with the day’s chores. I am curious as to how his conversation with Clea went, whether she will indeed allow the staff to resume their normal activities. How the meeting with the biographer went. When the book will be coming out, so I can procure copies for the staff to enjoy.

The sun is sinking lower toward the horizon when I finally do finish. I’ve mopped floors and dusted artifacts and polished metal, wood and glass. Hung new drapes in the western sitting room, steam cleaned the bloodstains off the haunted settee in the forbidden room for the millionth time, and pulled cobwebs down from the corners of Wong’s bedroom. He wanders in just as I am preparing to dash to my room to change. I look at him guiltily.

“I failed in my task.”

“Not really much you could have done. You kept her busy for most of the meeting.”

“But not for all of it. She’s a very jealous woman. I should have been more careful.”

“You going to get ready for your date soon?”

“Why does everyone assume we’re an item? I’ve been nothing but proper with him, never treated his wife with anything less than the highest respect, never given any indication that I have romantic feelings for him, never misbehaved! This is ridic…”

“Calm down! His word, not mine.” Wong holds up his hands in a warding-off gesture, shaking his head. “You don’t need to be sensitive. Hope you have a good time. You’re the one person who can run errands with him and not get killed for it.”

“He…called it a date?”

“Yes. He said ‘I have a date with Holly this evening. We’ll have another round of chess tomorrow.’ I said a date? With Holly? He just smiled and said ‘ Friend date.’ So I call it a date too. You gonna yell at him?”

“I never could. He can do no wrong in my eyes. I’m touched that he thinks of me as a friend. I’m very fond of him as well.”

“Me too. I love that man as much as I love my life. Now shoo, get ready for your friend date.”

“You’re wonderful, Master Wong.”

“Yes, and handsome too. Don’t forget to tell me how handsome I am.”

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, laughing.

“And handsome, and funny, and sweet. And Ming is a very happy and very lucky girl.”

“So lucky.”

“So lucky.” I echo, and I kiss his other cheek before letting go. “I’ll go change now. I only have a few articles of clothing other than work dresses, but I’ll…”

Wong holds up one finger for silence, then crosses to his closet and takes out a pink and white checked shirt. He brings it to me as though it were the Turin Shroud.

“You wear my lucky shirt.”

I take it, pleased and amused.

“Master Wong, I’ve never seen you wear this.”

“No. Is too lucky. Unfair advantage. I’m already the sexiest sorcerer in New York.”

In my bedroom, I change into black leggings and a tank top. And I toss the pink checked shirt on over it. I pull on my boots and look in the mirror. Not…quite…yet.

With hesitation, I slip the band from my braid and comb it out with my fingers. Loose, my hair courses over my shoulders and down my back. I touch on the smallest amount of perfume oil and just a hint of blush. Then I’m carefully opening my door and moving out into the hall, heading to the kitchen to wait until I’m rung for.  
Ten minutes later, a bell chimes.

It’s the gold one.


	5. Secrets and Surprises

The sorcerers upon whom we wait can ring the bell from anywhere in the house just using their minds. So he could be anywhere. I make for the study on a guess, and when I enter, he is there. Seated at his desk, writing carefully with a fountain pen. I pause in the doorway, simply watching him.

Even now, all these long years after his accident, he still has trouble writing. Fastening buttons. Threading a needle. Shaving himself with anything other than electric razors.

But he won’t give up working at these things. Forcing his shaking hands to obey him.

The light from his desk lamp shines on the silver at his temples, gleaming across one pale green eye as he focuses on the paper.

“Come in. We’ll leave in a few minutes. Just finishing up.”

“Yes Master.”

I enter the room, noting that there’s a chair pulled up beside his desk rather than before it. The biographer, probably making herself a little too familiar. He would have been too polite to tell her to move.

Quietly, I pull the chair back in front of the desk and settle into it, folding my hands in my lap.

After a moment, he looks up, and slowly sets the pen down. I can feel my heartbeat quicken as his eyes meet mine for the first time since last night. His gaze passes over my loose hair and my shirt.

“Stand up please.”

I rise to my feet, standing awkwardly as though being inspected. He sits back in his chair, tilting his head.

“Come here, Holly.”

“Yes sir.”

I move around the desk into the pool of light from the lamp, and he rotates his chair to face me. He’s dressed casually, just as I imagined. Sneakers, jeans, t-shirt, and as predicted, his favorite zippered sweatshirt. I love him. I love every single thing about him right down to the minutest detail. There’s a little silence. Something changes in his eyes. The look I caught for just a moment last night is there. Not imagined, but truly there. His voice is gentle.

“You look beautiful with your hair down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it like that before.”

“It’s customary for servants to wear it up. How was your lunch with Amara?”

“Wonderful. The highlight of my day.” He gestures to me, and I come a little closer. Gently, he takes one of my hands. “Until now.”

I touch his shoulder, smoothing away a wrinkle in the dark jersey fabric.

“You look a little too formal, sir. I feel underdressed.”

“Is that Wong’s lucky shirt?”

“The very same. He loaned it to me for our Friend Date.”

“That was kind of him. It looks very good on you. Shall we?”

And then the spell is broken. He’s rising to his feet, towering over me, blinking a few times as though shaking off a dream. I follow him out of the study, and we walk down the long hallway together. I can hear music playing far off in the Sanctum. Otherworldly and haunting. Clea is playing songs from her home world. I hope she’s content, and won’t be upset that her husband is out with me. If he’s even told her. They did have an argument again earlier, no matter how quiet and subdued it was. No telling what they have or have not spoken of in the interim.

We don’t have to wait on the driver for very long. Within minutes of exiting the Sanctum, the familiar sleek black Lincoln pulls over and the door is opened for us. I slide in first, moving over in the roomy back seat as he situates himself beside me. This isn’t the first time we’ve traveled together, but it is definitely the first time we’ve ventured out for pleasure. It’s impossible to quell the excitement and happiness in my chest as the car pulls smoothly away, bound for the city. I glance over at him, this man who has come to mean everything over the past eight years. He’s looking out of the window, deep in thought. Not smiling. Tense, somewhat, and tired. So very tired. I can’t even guess at what he’s thinking. And I don’t want to break his concentration by speaking Sometimes he wants to talk. At other times he requires perfect silence. God only knows what’s on his mind. Is it an impending alien invasion? Rumors of a rogue sorcerer loose in the world? Some Nightmare that rises in his thoughts and will not go away?

I don’t know. So I keep still as we ride through the suburbs and to the outskirts of the city. The rows of brownstones giving way to apartment buildings, and then to skyscrapers. I turn in my seat to look out the window too, mesmerized by the vastness of the edifices rising up to touch the clouds all around us. It will be sunset soon, and judging by the promising orange tinge to the sky in the west, it will be a beautiful one.

“My wife was unhappy with me again today.”

I shift around in my seat to face him, and he’s looking down at his hands. The gleam of the gold wedding band he wears catches the light. He studies it, his voice a little distant. “It’s my fault, really. Most of it. She seems to think I’m bedding half the women in the city even though I’m not. Have I strayed? Yes. We both have. But most of the time when I need someone to alleviate the…”

He trails off. I reach over, putting my hand on top of his. Loneliness. He can’t even say it. To say it would be to admit there’s a problem. A big one. And he will not admit that. Not yet. I’m holding my breath, and I don’t even know why. He hasn’t shared his thoughts with me like this in years.

“At any rate, I’m not even taking them to bed. It’s just the company. Someone to stay in the room while I read, or think. Occasionally? Yes, I have failed to honor my vows. It’s disgraceful. Physical needs should never outweigh honor. Being touched and held without tension, though. It’s…”

Again, he doesn’t finish his sentence. I move closer to him, and I hit the button to raise the partition between the driver and us. When it’s up, I take both of his hands in mine. My voice is low, and when he looks at me I meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to explain, Master. I understand. If you really were sleeping with half the city, I would still understand. Nothing you do will ever taint the man that you are. You’re a hero, Master….Doctor Strange. You are a hero. Your job is terrifying, but you do it. You’ve saved the city and saved the world and saved reality itself so many times over the years I’ve known you that I have literally lost count. And this is just a microcosm of your life. I know you don’t age, can’t get sick, can’t die of natural causes. When I am dead and buried, you will still be doing your job. It’s dreadful and wonderful. If you need to feel hands on you to keep you calm and comforted when there is no danger to fight…so be it. I am grateful that my hands are among them.”

He’s silent, searching my face for something. What, I don’t know. But this time I feel the subtle tingle at the base of my skull, and I know he’s in my mind. I steel myself, think about how loyal I am and how my job means a great deal to me. I mentally list the things I will need to do tomorrow, take stock of the different servants and where they’ll be sent, consider cleaning my room. Anything to keep him from seeing how much I love him. Anything to keep from complicating his life and mine more than it already is.

Satisfied, the questioning look in his eyes passes, and the tingle stops. He turns his hands, holding mine now, and I can feel them ever so slightly shake. I hold them a little tighter.

“Ming kissed Master Wong.” I blurt out, much to my surprise. Under the bus, you two.

Master Strange looks surprised for a moment, then a smile crosses his features.

“Did she now. That was pretty bold of her.”

“She said she’s had a crush on him for a long time. I mean, I totally get it. He’s quite the dish.”

“Oh no doubt. It’s hard to keep from kissing him myself. When did this happen?”

“Just the other day, apparently.”

“And did he kiss her back?”

“Yes. She’s calling him ‘Joseph’ now.”

“My blessings on the happy couple. If he marries her, she can’t be a servant anymore. You’ll have to hang another bell. Maybe a copper one.”

“How awful! Imagine not being able to keep doing the best job in the world?”

“Imagine being married to Wong. I love him like a brother, but I could never be his wife.”

“Just as well, sir. You’d look frightful in a wedding gown.”

The tension has melted, and we’re laughing again. If I can do this, if I can keep the banter and dismiss the underlying desire, then I can manage for the rest of my life.

“I’m sorry for mishandling your wife earlier today. I tried to keep her busy for the duration of your meeting, but I ultimately failed. I’m afraid I caused the argument you had in the foyer.”

“Nonsense. I didn’t ask that she be kept busy at all. That was Wong, wanting a little peace for a change.”

“Still. I should have given him that peace. You as well. I hope the meeting was fruitful, at least?”

“It was. Morgana is a delight.”

My chest deflates a little, but I force a smile.

“I’m glad. You have so few delights these days.”

“Holly?” He lifts a hand to my chin, tilting my face up and forcing me to look at him. I do, and the contact of his fingers against my skin is almost unbearably pleasant.

“Yes sir?”

“You’re a delight too. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“You don’t need to, Master. To serve you is its own reward.”

“Do you ever get tired of giving only the right answers?”

“No sir.”

“Don’t you want to just let it out at some point? Speak your mind completely and hold nothing back and slam the door on your way out?”

“Frequently, sir.”

“Do it now.”

My brain instantly provides a wide variety of things to spit out now that he’s given me leave to do so, chiefest among them the simple but damning phrase ‘Your wife is a bitch and I’m in love with you’, but I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to make it bleed, and I keep my silence. He touches my cheek.

“Stop hurting yourself. I mean it. Do not make me keep telling you.”

“It brings….clarity.”

“It brings pain. There’s enough of that in the house, and in the world. I care about you and I don’t want to see you injured. Not by you, not by anyone. Is that understood? No more.”

I sigh, then nod.

“Yes Master. It’s understood.”

“Good. Now speak freely. The phrase you just thought, that made you bite your cheek.”

My face flushes with embarrassment, I can actually feel it growing hot. I can’t say what I was thinking. I can’t.

“We need new floor cleaner. The one we’re using now leaves streaks that we have to polish out with cloths after we mop.” I say instead. Then, as a punctuation and to show the level of my seriousness, I add, “Damn it.”

He chuckles, and lifts my hand to his lips to kiss the back of it quickly, then release it.

“You’re very quick. I’ll give you that.”

We arrive at the edge of the city, at the end of a long cement pier that juts out into the water. This is Battery Park, and people are strolling about it in pairs or alone. He lowers the glass partition and tells the driver that he’ll call for him when we’ve finished. Then I’m being helped from the car, and I am standing for the very first time on the shore of the Hudson River as it flows into the Upper Bay. The Statue of Liberty can be seen across the chill waters, hoisting aloft her torch and staring benevolently out toward the channel that leads to the Atlantic. I stare at her rising above the deceptively calm-looking water in awe, until I feel Master Strange’s hand on my lower back gently propelling me forward.

“It’s a beautiful walk, up and down the pier. I come here often when I need to think. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes sir! This is amazing! That’s the Hudson! The actual river!” I’m as excited as a child, and I eagerly walk with him as he strides forward on long legs. He laughs, pleased that I am pleased. The light breeze lifts my hair and smells sweetly of growing things and water. A boy zips past us on a skateboard, followed by a girl on a scooter. I am entranced.

“I can’t believe you’ve never come here on your day off. Is this the first time you’ve seen the Statue of Liberty?”

“Yes! And she’s gorgeous! I never go anywhere on my day off, sir. I stay at the Sanctum and read in the library or wander the halls. Or work through it. Sometimes I go up on the roof to Master Wong’s garden to roam awhile among the vegetables and the flowers. I never know what to do with myself on Tuesdays. It’s my least favorite day of the week as a result.”

“From now on, Tuesday will be your favorite day. I’ll see to it personally. We’ll ‘run errands’ together at some point during the day or evening, and I’ll take you places you haven’t been before. As a thank you for all the hard work you do. It’s not necessary to take the car all the time, as you know. I thought you’d appreciate the view on the way in.”

“I did! Master, I couldn’t ask you to pay such special attention to me. It’s unfair to the others.”

He tucks his hands in his pockets and lowers his head slightly, avoiding the stares of the numerous people who have stopped to gawk at one of New York’s most famous residents. I slip my arm through his, my hand on his elbow, and lower my voice.

“Don’t look now, but I think my fans have noticed me. I’m something of a celebrity here, you know. They heard how swiftly I can make a bed, and how the laundry I do magically stays fresh for weeks. It’s very disconcerting, being stared at everywhere I go.”

  
We are passing a man in a business suit who’s unabashedly gaping at Master Strange. I hold up my hand.

“No autographs tonight. I’m taking the evening off.” I tell the poor fellow. He looks puzzled, the cell phone in his hand hanging limply now. My Master chuckles, shaking his head.

“They do seem to be all over you. I can’t imagine how tedious it is.”

“Fame is a heavy burden at times. Can we get closer to the water?”

“Of course. This way.”

The sun is setting in the distance, a massive ball of orange fire that’s setting the clouds alight all over the sky. We sit together on a park bench, watching the spectacle. A girl in tight jeans roller-blades past, giving my Master an openly appraising look that he completely misses. He’s looking at the sky, and he seems happy. I’m happy too. The fresh air and the water and the sunset and the company are all so perfect that my heart can hardly bear it.

“Thank you for this.”

“My pleasure. I’ve been meaning to bring you here for a while. The opportunity just never arose until now. I actually have something for you, Holly.”

I look at him in surprise. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velveteen drawstring bag, which he hands to me.

“It’s from Kathmandu. I went there this morning to check on Kamar Taj, see how they’re faring. All is well there, thankfully. The students are coming along nicely. While I was in the village, I stopped at the market to buy you a little something. Open it.”

With slightly trembling fingers of my own, I untie the knot and ease the bag open, tipping it into my palm. A necklace falls out. Green beads, some sort of stone, and a small silver medallion with the recognizable figure of the Buddha in the center, surrounded by crepuscular rays as though he sat in the middle of the Sun. My eyes sting with tears. I have never received such a gift before. Never received any sort of gift from him at all. This is at once the most precious thing I have ever owned. I look up at him, stunned.

“Master…I don’t know what to say. It’s perfect. You deeply honor me.”

“Here, let me help you put it on.”

And carefully, forcing his hands to work the tiny clasp, he affixes the necklace in its proper place while I hold my hair up. I turn around again, looking down at the medallion with tears in my eyes. Impulsively, I reach out and hug him, and after a second I feel his arms move around me to return the embrace. We don’t let go. Half a minute passes, and still we do not let go. I turn my head, burying my face against the curve of his neck. Just breathing in his scent with my eyes closed. He slowly rubs my back, and I feel him rest his chin against my temple.

Caught up in the moment, drunk on the sensation of his nearness and the warmth of his arms, I stroke the back of his neck and whisper to him.

“I love you, sir.”

He doesn’t respond, but his embrace tightens for a long moment. I feel him draw breath to say something, but it dies on the tip of his tongue. He sighs, stroking my hair. Then he kisses the side of my head, and releases me.

“Would you like to keep walking? It’s getting chilly, we’ll be warmer if we continue.”

I am ashamed of my outburst. But if he’s going to be graceful enough to ignore it, then so shall I. We rise to our feet. I am subdued and I don’t meet his eyes. But when we begin to walk again and the breeze flows over both of us, I feel a little better. He furthers the comfort when he casually takes my hand and holds it.

“Shall we play the Secret Game?” He asks. I grin.

“We haven’t done this in ages. Alright! I’ll go first. I know the location of every missing spoon in the Sanctum. But I'll never reveal it. Even under torture.”

“You have no idea what torture is, Holly.” He says darkly. We part as a woman on a cell phone pushing a stroller barrels rudely between us. But he takes my hand again when we move together, and my heart warms. “And I think I already know this secret. You mean the spoons that Ming steals? Wong knows too, but we found it quirky and it makes her happy, so we don't reprimand her for her spoon-gathering habit.”

“You knew! I call her Ming the Magpie, she adores shiny things. It's precious.” I love this game. It’s one of my favorites among the many we’ve played over the years. “Your turn. I get a secret now.”

He thinks for a moment, then comes up with one.

“I hate raspberries. Clea loves them. It’s the only reason the horrid fruit still finds its way into the Sanctum, to please her. But I can’t stand them. It’s the tiny little seeds. I don’t like any fruit with tiny seeds except strawberries. Those are tolerable.”

“I’ll have to remember that when I make up the breakfast trays. No more raspberries on your plate.”

“I used to hand-feed them to Clea. She would pretend to bite my fingers, and lick the juice away when she’d laughingly taken the fruit. She…doesn’t do that anymore.”

There’s a little pause, but then he shrugs it off. “Your turn.”

I’d felt sorrow at the mention of his wife, and their fading love. I remember when she first came to us and their relationship was in its infancy. They’d loved one another openly and often, playful in their happiness. When he would come home, she’d fly down the stairs as fast as she could and throw herself into his arms, covering his face with kisses, both of them laughing.

That hasn’t happened for quite some time.

I delicately clear my throat, and then with the lingering resentment for his wife in my mind, I deliver a shocking secret.

“Two years ago in midsummer there was a full moon, and it was a gorgeous night. I'd gone up to the rooftop to spend some time among the plants and enjoy the night air. Everything was shining silver-white in the moonlight, and I was entranced. The breeze was so warm and the scent of the flowers was heavy in the air. I don't really know what came over me. But I....slipped off my nightgown and wandered the rows for almost an hour, just letting the moonlight paint my body the same silver-white that it painted everything else. It was magical. No one saw me, there are no cameras pointed at the Sanctum's rooftop and no one else was awake that night. It was magical.”

I know what I’ve just done, and I’m pleased when his steps falter almost imperceptibly. I glance up at him, and he’s smiling slightly.

“Alright, I told you a VERY scandalous secret. That's worth two I think.”

“Secret number two is that I keep a vinyl collection beneath the staircase. There's a hidden door that only appears with the right spell, so that's where I store my favorite records, mainly my jazz records. I haven't listened to music in a bit, though. I miss the music, it helps me clear my mind. And secret number three? You’ll just love this one. Or it will kill you.”

“I can handle quite a bit.”

“We’ll see.” He squeezes my hand, then continues. “There are many late evenings that I like to sit in the alcove near the garden because I can smell the vegetables, the herbs and the flowers. It's a perfect place for meditating and yoga. A couple years ago I was sitting in complete relaxation until I heard the rustle of leaves. I saw you rush through the bushes, naked, and I expected someone else to be chasing you. But you were alone, enjoying your freedom and the cool air. I stayed hidden in the alcove until you left because I didn't want to interrupt your gambol. It was beautiful that night. The moonlight was gorgeous. And you were having such a nice time. Totally unaware that you weren’t alone.”

My entire face and neck heat with color. I feel as though I'm floating a few inches above the ground, and my entire body is tingling with shock and shame and horror. Is this a panic attack? Am I having a panic attack?

“Oh.”

He laughs, letting go of my hand and putting his arm around me to hug me for just a moment.

“Don’t be ashamed. You were only a girl, about sixteen. I didn’t have perverse thoughts, I swear. I was happy that you were feeling liberated that night. You were always so self-disciplined and serious even then. It was nice to see you relax.”

I am mortified. But then the humor of the situation strikes me, and I burst out laughing. The first real laugh I've had in a long time. After a moment, he joins me. Like children, we are laughing together with abandon. I lean against him and hide my face in my hands, tears of merriment wetting my cheeks.

“Next time I'll just invite you, shall I? We can race about the roof in the moonlight together, gloriously naked and shameless, and throw Master Wong's prize tomatoes at each other from between the rows. And the following day, when he asks what the hell happened on the roof, we'll calmly tell him that it must have been vegetable-hating hoodlums running rampant through his garden. Poor fellow.”

“He’d never believe it. We should just blame Ming. Joseph can’t punish her, after all. She kissed him.”

“So a kiss is the price of avoiding punishment at the Sanctum?”

We’ve reached the end of the pier, and come to a halt to look out at the twinkling lights of the far shore reflected in the water. He turns to regard me, still half-smiling.

“Ming is wearing the armor now. I certainly won’t say a single sharp word to her, not knowing that there might be a budding relationship in the works. Masters and servants have enjoyed a special closeness since the early days of Kamar Taj. It’s hardly new. Nothing in the rules against it, either. Those two are free to do as they wish.”

I move in front of him, reaching up to put my hands on his shoulders.

“I ought to kiss him too then, to give myself this armor.”

Master Strange looks down at me, and his expression grows serious. The light of the ruddy sky is reflected in his pale eyes. Green or blue or both or neither, I don’t know. But they are beautiful eyes.

“I don’t want you to kiss Wong, Holly.”

“Then what should I do? Would you like me to kiss Mistress Clea? She would bite me, I think.”

My voice is quiet now, and my body feels as though every nerve is exposed to the air and the light and his closeness. I can’t look away from him. And he does not make a move to push me away.

His left hand moves to touch my waist, his stronger hand cupping my cheek. There is indecision in his gaze, hesitation. Torment. I feel terrible all at once for my behavior this whole evening. He is touch-starved and lonely, and this is temptation he does not need. I start to pull away.

He stops me. Keeping me still in a suddenly firm grip. I obey the directive of his touch, and do not move. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I am certain it’s audible.

“Are we going to be honest now? Is this the moment?” He asks quietly.

I swallow, hard. Then I shake my head.

“No. We can’t be.”

“Who is your Master? Who is the Master of the Sanctum?”

“You are, sir.”

“Right answer. I’ll decide what can and cannot happen. I am tired of living my life in fear of my wife’s anger. I’ve faced down gods, demons, interdimensional foes that would freeze the marrow in anyone else’s bones. I don’t know when I lost my power to the woman I love, but I think I’m beginning to regain it. She will be displeased, no doubt. But I don’t intend to tell her that you and I talked openly like this.”

“I don’t…I can’t…complicate…”

He sighs and pulls me into his arms, and I hug him and say nothing. What is there to say? And how? Some fourth wall of fantasy has been broken, and this frightening honesty now lies between us and will not recede into the darkness where it belongs. I shiver, and he pulls back to unzip his sweatshirt and drape it around my shoulders.

Just like in my fantasy, the fantasy that he apparently read all of and left nothing out. I lift my eyes to meet his again. I feel suddenly just as exhausted as he seems to be.

That could be why I don’t fight him as he takes my face in his hands and bends down to rest his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, just breathing. Feeling his breath on my lips. Tasting him, almost. Starving for him. Scared and too naïve to understand why I’m scared, or what I’m scared of. I have never been this close to a man before. To anyone at all, in fact. Completely innocent of anything of a physical or romantic nature. At this first intimacy my mind and my whole being are reeling like a drunken moth trying to reach the Moon.

“This is wrong.” I whisper.

“I know it is. Will you be alright?”

“Yes sir. Will you?”

“I always find my way to rightness somehow or other.”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I….”

Tears begin to course down my cheeks, wetting his hands. He draws back, and then I feel the softness of the hem of his shirt against my face, wiping away the tears.

“Shhh. I’m sorry, I won’t do this to you. It’s unfair of me, it’s cruel.”

“Who is your servant? Who is the head servant of the Sanctum?” I open my eyes, stopping his hand from blotting at my face. He cocks his head, studying me.

“You are.”

“Right answer. I’ll decide what’s unfair and cruel.”

And with that I stand on tiptoe, and I kiss my Master’s cheek. When I pull back, we simply look at one another, and consider this moment.

“I love you, sir.” I say again. And this time it is not a whisper, and I do not look away. “I love you, and I am your loyal and faithful servant. And the servant of Master Wong, and the servant of your wife. I am a servant of the Sanctum Sanctorum. Above all other duties though, I am your servant. You are my priority until such time as you dismiss me, or I die.”

Master Strange raises his chin a notch, his jaw tightening as he fights some internal battle of which I have no clear knowledge. Finally he speaks.

“As your Master, it is my duty to protect you.”

“Yes sir. Also to provide reasonable room and board. And new floor cleaner. Damn it.”

He smiles, stroking my cheek.

“Holly. How on Earth did you even come to be my servant?”

I touch his face too, reaching up to trail my fingertips along the perfect line of his neatly shaven beard.

“Stillborn lambs, crops that failed to thrive, sour milk, bread that wouldn’t rise. It was said that the family was under a curse. We consulted a variety of people who claimed to be able to help us. Finally, one elderly woman told the family that I was the source of the curse. Karmic debt, she called it. Only a lifetime of servitude could hope to erase that stain. I must have been frightful in another life. I don’t know. I don’t remember. But my Uncle Lester did some digging, and found out about Kamar Taj. He sent me all the way from California to Tibet. The moment the head servant saw me, awkward and shy and submissive and only ten years old, she knew where she wanted to send me after my training was complete.”

“That was wise. You didn’t need to be taught English, for one. And you were a native of the country. No paperwork needed to be filed, no red tape to navigate to assure your legality.”

“It seemed to be a perfect fit. And my demeanor was judged to be appropriate to serve the Sorcerer Supreme.”

He nods, and takes my hand in his. Pressing my palm to his lips for a moment. Then he releases me, stepping back. My skin tingles where he kissed me. I carefully fold my fingers around the place to keep the kiss safe, like a child would. It is a child’s hero worship that warms my chest now. Something powerful was on the verge of happening a few seconds ago. I know it. I wonder if I will be able to force myself not to know it, not to think about it. I wonder if he will.

“Shall we walk to the other side, sir?”

“Of course. This evening is for you, after all. We’ll go wherever you like.”

We walk together, in no hurry and ambling slowly, around the promontory and down the other side. We talk of the Sanctum, we talk of books and chess and music. The dreams he’s had lately, the dreams I’ve had. We speak of the garden on the roof and the décor of the master bedroom. Anything at all to keep from talking about the warmth in his eyes and the butterflies in my stomach. After an hour of comfortable conversation, we’ve arrived back at the entrance to Battery Park. He takes my hand again, and I do not pull away. I want to fling my arms around his neck and breathlessly tell him that he is the center of my universe. I want to fall to my knees and kiss his feet. I do not do these things. Instead, I slip my arm through his to assure my footing, and walk beside him.

“Will we take the car back, or the portal?”

“The car, I think. You’ve seen portalling. You haven’t seen the city.”

“As my Master wishes.”

And so it comes that we wait by the roadside for a little while, then slide into the back seat of the Lincoln together. I look to him as the car sets off on its journey to the Sanctum again.

“Master. Thank you for taking this walk with me.”

“It’s a pleasure, Holly. You’ve earned a little special treatment.”

I am looking out the window, focusing on the skyline, when I reach out blindly for his hand a little while later and hold it. He doesn’t pull away. Not turning from the window, I speak.

“I know you are lonely. If there is ever a night when you desire my company, you have only to ring the bell, sir. I would come to you no matter where you are. And I would give you whatever you needed.”

There is silence, for a bit at least. During this time the tension in the car rises to an excruciating pitch. I force myself to turn and look at him, sitting there in the seat beside me. When my eyes are on him, he reaches out and hits the button to raise the partition between the two of us and the driver. I hold my breath, wondering what he is about to say that requires privacy.

The mystery is removed seconds later when he reaches for me, putting his hand on my wrist and pulling until I follow his unspoken instructions. I find myself hugged against his side mere seconds later. Slightly shaking, I look into his eyes and simply wait for him to speak. His hand around my waist is warm. And his eyes are gentle as he looks at me.

“There is something I owe you, Holly. Something I saw in your vision when I read your mind last night. Something you have earned.”

I know what he means, and I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t move.

“M-Master?”

He is the most handsome man in the entire universe. The heat of his hand on my cheek is a Heavenly bliss of which I have never conceived before. I close my eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh. My heart is hammering in my chest.

“You imagined that I kissed you. Open your eyes.”

Obediently, I do. They are shining with emotion, and my heart is beating faster than it ever has in my life.

“I am not worthy of such a bestowal, sir.”

“You are, Holly.” He tells me. Then his scarred hand is warming my cheek, and he is pulling me closer to him. I should fight. I do not. I don’t want to.

When his lips touch my forehead, everything in me seems to come to life all at once. This is a very different kiss. Not the soft pecks he sometimes presses to my cheeks or hands. Panic and joy and desire all war in my chest and stomach, none emerging the victor. I close my eyes. My own hand moves to cup his cheek, and when he finally draws back it takes me a few seconds to open my eyes. I look up at him. He is so close that I could count every one of his eye lashes.

“Thank you, Master.”

“I know you mean well. I know that your offer comes from a place of loyalty and love. But Holly, I’m not going to use you to alleviate my loneliness, or to fulfill needs that you don’t even fully understand. You’ve just told me that you never take days off, never leave the Sanctum except to run errands. Am I correct in guessing that you’ve never even kissed a man?”

I lower my eyes, his hand still on my cheek, and I shake my head.

“No Master.”

“And you’ve never been with a man physically, either.”

“No sir.” I pause, and then find myself telling him a secret kept by the servants trained at Kamar Taj of which he might not be aware. “All female servants are sent to their Masters as virgins. They are to remain that way unless their Master expressly wishes to relieve them of the condition. We are to serve any purpose asked of us, up to and including intimacy. You may not have been told this to avoid making you uncomfortable. But it is a well known fact among the servants. We agree to it when we submit to training. Your entire female staff are all virgins, sir. Although I don’t think Ming will be for much longer.”

“Are you kidding me? What kind of barbarism is that? Your body belongs to you, not to me or anyone else.”

He lowers his hand from my cheek, putting it beneath my chin and forcing me to look at him.

“This isn’t the Middle Ages, and your value does not lie in your body. Do you understand me, Holly? Tell the rest of the staff this as well. I don’t see you all as potential concubines, I see you as people who are making my life and Wong’s a whole lot easier by your service.”

Master Strange looks genuinely troubled. He releases my chin and pulls me into his arms, embracing me tightly before letting go.

“So that’s why you made the offer. It all makes sense now. Holly, I am so sorry you thought for one moment that you would have to sleep with me as part of your service. That must have terrified you. Set your mind at ease. I will never ask that of you or any of my staff. Alright?”

“That’s not why I offered, Master. Not because I thought I ‘had’ to do anything.”

“Then why?”

The partition is still up. I take a deep breath and let it out, looking into his eyes. Forcing myself not to look away. Now is the moment. Now it is time for truth, and God help me if he laughs, or gets angry, or rejects me in a hundred different ways.

“I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old, sir.”

Silence. He simply stares at me, his brow furrowed slightly. I feel infinitely stupid and clumsy and childish. So I turn away, looking out the window again. Letting the silence stretch on until we arrive back at the Sanctum. Before he opens the door to get out, he touches my hand.

“We’ll talk about this later. For now, just rest assured that I’m not mad at you, or disappointed. I won’t hurt you or take advantage of your honesty. This doesn’t make me feel any less close to you, and it will not impact your job here or your position as my personal servant. I do want you to let the others know that I intend to never make any intimate demands of them, and they are free to love whomever they wish. Institute a system of at least one day off and away from the Sanctum per week for every member of the staff. See to it that they have street clothing and adequate spending money for forays out into the city, to experience life a little. You have access to the banking information. Increase the rate of pay by five percent, too. It’s been years since I gave anyone here a raise. And Holly, give yourself a ten percent raise. Buy some outfits to wear out. You and I are going to be making weekly trips together. Look, I understand what it is to have a crush…”

“This is not a crush, sir. Respectfully.”

“You’re very young. Only twenty. You don’t know the intricacies of love yet. How painful it can be. I’d like to spare you that pain. Someday, you’ll understand love fully.”

“I understand that it shouldn’t involve slapping your lover in the face, or sleeping with other people.”

Instantly, I know I’ve gone too far. Anger flashes across his eyes and his jaw tightens. I touch his hand. “I’m sorry, sir. That was inappropriate. Please continue.”

“I’m not angry with you, Holly. There’s truth to what you said. But it’s hard to hear. I’m flattered by your attention, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t…..” He sighs. “Look, we need to keep things on a professional level. The last thing you’d want is the wrath of my wife coming down on you.”

“In this, we agree.”

The car is idling, the driver staying right where he is since Master Strange hasn’t lowered the partition or made a move to exit the vehicle. We look at one another.

If Ming were in my place, and she felt for him the way I do, she would have kissed him by now. But I am not Ming. I lift my chin slightly, forcing a small smile.

“I will behave with professionalism and courtesy, Master. You won’t be made to feel uncomfortable, I promise. I have handled my…childish crush…for many years now. I will continue to handle it.”

“I didn’t call it childish.”

“No sir.”

“You’re an attractive young lady. Save yourself until you meet someone worthy of the gift that your heart represents.”

“Yes sir.”

But I don’t look away from his eyes. And he still doesn’t move.

Now, Holly. Do something…..anything. Now.

But I don’t.

Finally, he opens the door and climbs out, letting me take his hand as I exit the Lincoln as well. A step respectfully behind him, I mount the stairs and we enter the Sanctum. It is warmly lit inside, incense in the air and the sound of servants laughing together far off through the halls. I turn to look up at him.

“Will you be spending another night in the guest room, sir? I would make it comfortable for you again, if you wish.”

“He’ll be in the bedroom with me.” The velvety sound of Clea’s voice floats down to us from where she stands at the top of the stairs. Slowly, she descends. I back up a pace from my Master, not wanting to appear too familiar. But Clea hardly casts a look my way.

“Bring up a bottle of wine, Holly. And let it be known that we don’t wish to have any intrusions for the rest of the night.”

She reaches him, laying her hands on his chest and sliding them up to lace her long fingers behind his neck. She’s drunk, that much we can both tell. But she seems to be feeling mellow and non-combative. If she is upset that we left the Sanctum in one another’s company, she doesn’t even bother to say so. Master Strange hesitates, then rests his hands on her trim waist. I look away.

“Yes Mistress. Any particular type of wine?”

“Something rich and red. Blood red, the color of passion. Come, husband. I’ve missed your attentions.”

“Alright.” He tells her, allowing himself to be led towards the staircase. But before they climb up to the second floor, he casts another look at me. There’s something in his eyes that makes my chest tingle. For a second, it felt as though there was no one else in the world except the two of us. I watch them go, then walk to the steps that lead down to the wine cellar.

In the cool dark, I let the tears slip down my cheeks freely as I look through the extensive wine collection for just the right bottle.  
I love him. But he’s going to be making love to someone else tonight. His wife, as it should be. I ought to be happy that they’ve reconciled again. I should be relieved that he will be spending the night with the woman he loves in his arms. But I’m not. All I can think about is our conversation in the car. The way his lips felt on my forehead when he kissed me. And the look in his eyes before he ascended the staircase.

The look of hesitancy, the look of unfinished business. Of reluctance. The look of warmth, a new kind of warmth that was not there a year ago. The look that he’s given me a few times now over the past two days. Something is changing between us, and I can feel it. Something terribly grown up and important and potentially dangerous.

My eyes are so blurred with tears that I can barely see the labels. Finally, I just grab a bottle and walk up the stone steps from the cellar with it in my hands. I’m a mess. My heart feels like its breaking.

I pause at the communal washroom and slip inside to wash my face before taking the wine bottle and a pair of glasses to the master bedroom. Looking into the mirror, I am disappointed to see how forlorn I appear. This will never do. Carefully I wipe away the tears and pull my hair back into its customary braid. I strip off the leggings and tank top and Wong’s lucky shirt, reaching for a fresh work dress from the row of them hanging neatly according to size opposite the bank of showers. As I pull it over my head, it is as though a spell were settling over me. My heart numbs in my chest, and I can breathe again.

There is only duty. There is only obedience. There is only the highest level of service to be sought, and nothing more.

The silver bell in the corner of the room tinkles, and I pick up the wine bottle and hurry out. Stopping by the kitchen to open it and set it on a tray with two glasses and an array of chocolate-dipped fruit. I move swiftly up the side stairs to the second floor, hardly feeling the tray in my hands or the steps beneath my feet. I am shutting down emotionally, as I must.

At the master bedroom, I tap respectfully on the door.

“Come in!” Clea calls out in her musical voice. So I push the door open.

There are moments in a person’s life that, by virtue of being either wonderfully joyous or deeply painful, are flash-frozen into their psyche forever. My fifth birthday, when my Uncle gave me a doll house that he made with his own hands. The day my mother took me to the apple orchard and we picked the jewel-bright apples under a perfect blue sky together. The night I was put on a plane to fly across the ocean to Europe, then on another plane to Tibet. The first sight of my Master. These things all imprinted themselves onto my mind, and can be recalled in the smallest detail for the rest of my life at will.

I did not want to walk in and see this.

He is shirtless, seated on the love seat by the fire. Clea is completely naked, straddling his lap. Her long hair the only thing covering her body. She is stroking the back of his neck, and he’s lightly touching her hips. The moment the door opens, he attempts to rise. But Clea refuses to budge. Laughing as though he were playing a game with her.

“Mmmmm, hold still my darling. She’s surely seen adults in compromising positions before. And if not, what better time to learn? The poor girl is twenty, after all. Plenty old enough. Holly dear, close the door.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Master Strange’s voice is tight. He reaches beside him for his wife’s robe, attempting to drape it around her shoulders. “You said you were going to tell her to leave it outside the door.”

Clea shrugs off the robe, languidly beckoning to me to bring the tray over. There is a cannonball in the pit of my stomach, and I feel as though I am being dipped in acid. It’s not me who forces my legs to move and plasters a blank look across my features. Internally, I’m sobbing. Some deep and calm power born of years of training has taken over my body, and it does not fail me in my moment of need. Averting my eyes, I bring the tray to the small table beside the couch, setting it down.

“Will that be all, Mistress?”

Master Strange glances at me with an apology in his eyes. He’s not touching her hips anymore, his hands instead gripping the fabric of the cushions on which they sit. He looks livid.

Clea strokes his perfectly sculpted chest with her long fingernails, touching his cheek with her free hand.

“I changed my mind, Stephen dear. Let’s spice things up a bit tonight, shall we? She’s as good a third person as any. I think you can handle two women, can’t you? That’s the rumor, anyway.”

The bottom drops out of my soul.

For a few heartbeats, Master Strange can’t even respond. Then he forcefully gets to his feet, picking up his wife and setting her down on the love seat. She’s giggling, reaching for the wine to pour them both a glass.

“You can go, Holly.” His deep voice is gentle, but there’s rage in his eyes. And sorrow.

“Nonsense. Holly, take that baggy thing off and come over here. You want to please your Master, don’t you? Let me show you how.”

“Clea, this is my personal servant, and I will NOT have her put in this position!”

“What position would you like her in, darling? Surely you’ve thought of it. After all, the two of you couldn’t _wait_ to sneak off together for the evening. She’s such a little delight, to take such good care of you all the time. Might as well scratch that itch with your wife present, don’t you think?”

“This isn’t a game, Clea. You’re terrifying her. Holly, you’re dismissed.”

Clea only laughs again, pleased with the stricken look on my face and the rage in her husband’s voice. He wraps his hand completely around my upper arm and leads me to the door, opening it.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, and this time he’s unable to even meet my eyes. Just as well. I can’t meet his either.

The door closes, and I stand still in the hall for perhaps fifteen seconds, listening to the deafening silence. There is no shouting from within. Only an icy discomfort that breaks my heart.

I turn and flee down the hall, tripping over my own feet in my haste to get away. Shaking harder than I ever have in my life, tears flowing down my cheeks and sobs hitching in my chest.

I reach the door to Wong’s room and tap on it, trying to control my breathing. There’s a sound of voices from within, and then Ming opens the door. She’s smiling at first, but when she sees the state I’m in her smile fades. Wong is seated comfortably in one of two armchairs by the fire, a pile of books on the table between them and one in his hand. He gets up as Ming tugs me inside and closes the door. Three seconds later he’s crossed the room and put his sturdy arms around me. I turn my face to his chest and let it out, just cry until I have no strength in my limbs and I can only gasp for breath and cling to him. Ming rubs my back, bewildered.

“Who do I need to kill?”

“Ming, not now. Holly, Holly. You ok. Shhhhh. It’s ok. I've got you.”

Wong picks me up as though I weighed nothing and carries me to the chair, easing me down to sit. He draws back to pull the woven afghan down from the armrest, and he bundles it around me, kneeling in front of the chair to lift my feet into his lap. Tugging off my shoes to rub my arches with his large, calloused hands. This compassion from a Master, the best friend of the man I love, is enough to send me into a fresh wave of tears. Ming brings over a box of tissues, handing them to me one at a time. Taking a seat in the other chair and pulling it closer. There is worry in her eyes, and alarm. In all the years she’s known me, she has never seen me cry. Certainly not like this.

It takes a full ten minutes for me to calm down enough to even speak. My eyes are swollen, and I can’t get my hands to stop shaking.

“What happened.” Wong’s voice is gentle, understanding, and calm. When Ming begins to speak, he reaches over and pats her knee to lovingly quiet her. I gulp air, not even trusting my voice.

“Mistress Clea…..”

“I’ll slit her goddamn throat.” Ming starts to rise. Wong gestures to her, and glowing crimson bands snake around her wrists and ankles, pinning her to the chair.

“For your own safety, little flower. I love you too much to let you get yourself killed. Just listen. Listen to your friend, let her talk. Hush now. Use ears, not mouth.”

Ming tugs at the restraints, aggravated, but it’s no use. She gives up and listens.

“Go on, Holly.” Wong keeps rubbing my feet with one hand, reaching up to take a tissue and wipe my face with the other. “Take your time. But before anything else, is Stephen alright?”

“Yes. H-he’s fine.”

“Alright. Keep talking. Tell me what happened to you.”

Miserably, haltingly, my voice quivering with shame and shock, I tell them what just happened. I can’t keep still. My hands are shaking, my whole body is trembling violently despite the warm blanket. I feel sick and scared.

"...and then she told me to take off my work dress and learn how to please my Master. She said she'd show me how. Master Strange looked equal parts horrified and furious."

“But Stephen defended you?”

“He dismissed me. He got me out of there. He said he was sorry. I don’t know what he said to her afterwards. I ran away. I came right to you.”

Wong sighs heavily, his dark almond-shaped eyes turning toward the closed door.

“That woman has guessed, Holly. She’s a lot smarter than either of you think, and she can read people like books. She knows you love her husband. If Ming and I can see it, of course Clea can see it.”

“That awful, mean, vicious bitch.” Ming has tears on her cheeks as well. Tears she can’t even wipe away, because Wong has her strapped to that chair for her own protection. I blow my nose and wipe my face, getting control of myself by degrees, and reach over to wipe Ming’s face too.

“She’s just drunk and having a go at me to amuse herself. I got out of there before she saw me cry, at least there’s that. If she knew how much she’d upset me, she would only do worse next time.”

“You’re right, Holly. Now listen to me. You can’t stay out of her way. She’ll just call for you again and again and make your life hell. You can’t let her know that she got to you at all. When you not in front of her, come to me. Scream, cry, break things. Let it all out. But not in front of her, you understand? She smells pain and weakness. And she would go for the throat. Okay? You understand?”  
“I think I’m going to throw up.”

Wong gestures to Ming again, and the restraints vanish.

“Take her to my bathroom. Run her a bath, rub her back. Take care of her. I’m gonna be right here.”

Ming hardly needs prodding. She’s up and out of the chair in a heartbeat, taking my hand and bringing me into the bathroom.  
While she fills Wong’s bath tub, I vomit into the toilet on my knees, crying. Twenty minutes later I am sitting in the tub as she pours water down over my shoulders, rubbing my back with her free hand.

“I’m in love with him.”

“I know.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be intimate with him. I do! But not like this. And not while he’s married. I’m not his wife and I’m not an escort. I…..I’m…..”

“You’re special.” Ming sets the bowl aside and takes both my hands in hers. “You are SPECIAL to him. He loves you. I’m positive of that.”

“I’m just a servant.”

Ming looks at the door to the bathroom, then lowers her voice.

“He told Wong he loved you three years ago, before Clea came, when you were only sixteen years old. But he’s honorable as all get-out and he refused to press his advantage. He told Wong he wasn’t looking for a lover, and that he’d be a bad partner to have because the terrors of the multiverse make for poor pillow talk. He thought he was going to be alone. Then Clea came, and she’s the same as him in a lot of ways, and he saw a chance at happiness. But he loved you first.”

I’m hugging myself, biting my lip, staring hopefully at my friend as she speaks.

“I would die for him. I don’t care what his job is. I KNOW what his life is like! Who do you think cleans up the mess?!”

“Look, you know that and I know that! But we’re servants! They’re Masters! They barely see us as anything but background noise until we really put ourselves in their way! I had to push for two YEARS to get Joseph to notice me! But it finally worked. He told me he loved me tonight. I love him. We’re taking it slow, but it’s happening. This is everything I dreamed of.”

“That’s different. Master Wong is approachable and friendly with us. His duties are lighter, too. Master Strange is far too busy to concern himself with petty, childish matters like this! And he’s aloof and serious. With most people, anyway. His life is complicated, his job is enough to make anyone cringe in terror.”

“Who’s hands are on him at the end of the day? Who draws his baths and washes his hair and shaves him and makes his meals and launders his clothing? Who rubs his back and tells him that he’s cared for and respected and loved?”

“I do. But it’s my duty.”

“It’s more than that. He knows it, and you know it. And his wife knows it. And your life is in danger.”

I sink into the water, letting the heat soothe away my pain. My eyes close.

She’s right.

Two hours later, I’ve calmed down enough to be able to speak normally and form rational thoughts. Wong is rubbing my shoulders as I sit in the armchair, Ming beside me reading to us both from a book of poems.

“My love, in the darkest hour your laughter opens, and if suddenly you see my blood staining the stones of the street, laugh, because your laughter will be for my hands like a fresh sword...”

“I think I’ll be alright now, Ming. Master Wong. I should return to my room to rest. Tomorrow won’t come any later just because I’ve cried tonight. I need to sleep.”

Ming shuts the book, and Wong comes around the chair to help me to my feet. He embraces me again, stroking my hair.

“You can stay here if you want. I make up the couch for myself, you two girls can take the bed.”

He’s too wonderful. I hug him tightly, then step back.

“Absolutely not! You two should be alone together tonight. Thank you so much for being here to calm me down and soothe my feelings. But I’ll be ok. Honestly. I just want to sleep.”

They exchange a look. Finally, Wong nods with a sigh. He takes my hand in his and walks with me to his bedroom door.

“Anything else happens, you need to talk, you even have a bad dream…come back. My door won’t be locked. Just come in. You won’t interrupt anything. Gonna wait with Ming, we’re still early stages. Plenty of time, plenty of days and weeks ahead to get closer. You just walk in and wake me up. I’ll sit with you. Beat you at chess, maybe. Yes?”

I smile, and it’s an exhausted and tear-soaked smile, but a smile nonetheless. Before I leave the room I kiss his cheek and then Ming’s.

"I love you both so much."

“We love you too.” Ming says, squeezing my hands.

I close the bedroom door and tiptoe down the hall to the side staircase. So much time has passed that there is no light or sound in the hallways. Even the Moon has set. But I put my hand to the wall and find my way down by memory.

The servant’s wing is just at the base of the stairs. I walk all the way to the end, to where my bedroom lies on the left hand side right before the entrance to the great hall. Soundlessly, I push my door open.

Master Strange is sitting on the edge of my bed.


	6. Light Fills the Vessel

I freeze in the doorway. Of all the things to happen, of all the people I expected to find in my chambers at three in the morning, he was the absolute last. I am fully aware of how awful and disheveled I look, my eyes swollen and my hair a mess from the late night bath without benefit of a comb. I pull the door shut behind me, and he rises to his feet.

He has never been in my chambers before. Not in eight years. It is surreal to see him here now, dressed in his black pajamas with bare feet pale against the dark stone of the floor. I don’t know what to say. I can’t think of a single thing.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be, sir. Are you?”

Master Strange doesn’t answer. Nor does he come forward. He simply stands there, his arms helpless at his sides, looking at me with great, sad eyes. I am the one to move forward, I am the one to reach out to take his hands. We don’t speak. He is hesitant as I sit down on my bed and tug him down to sit beside me. Slowly, as though in a dream, he eases me back with one hand on my shoulder until my aching head rests on the pillow. The bed is narrow, barely larger than a single bed, but he lies down on his side next to me, and we face one another. I reach down for the woolen blanket, drawing it up and over our bodies to shield us from the chill in the room.

He doesn’t try to touch me. He seems unwilling to frighten me by doing so. I reach beneath the blanket and find his hand, lifting it to press his palm against my hot cheek. Still damp from tears, and from the bath.

“Holly I am so, so sorry.”

“There’s no need to be, sir. This wasn’t your fault.”

“It was cruel of her to put you in such a position. She’s never done anything like that before.”

“Is she asleep?”

“Yes.”

I bite my lip, looking at the miracle of my Master with his head on the pillow beside mine. I kiss his hand, lowering it to the place above my heart.

“Did you….make love?”

“Yes.”

“I’m very happy for you, that you and your wife are on better terms.”

“Stop it. Just stop it for one night.”

“Ok.” I whisper. “I will.”

A little silence. And then…

“If you and I ever do become intimate, I won’t have it happen as the result of my wife’s petulant games.”

My eyes flick up to stare into his.

“What?” The word comes out breathless, with an embarrassing bright edge of hope to it. I clutch his hand with both of mine now, lips parted and hanging on his every word.

“You heard me, Holly.”

“I….I did.”

“Would you let me hold you, or would that make it worse?”

In answer, I scoot over to give him more room. As much as I can, anyway. He leans up long enough to open his arms and welcome me into them. And for the first time, I find myself lying down with him, enveloped in warmth and spicy cologne and the delicious natural scent of his clean skin. My cheek resting on his bicep, my body pressed against his, my hand on his chest. I grip a handful of his pajama top, holding on tight.

“What if she comes looking for you?”

“She won’t. I’ve enchanted her sleep. An earthquake wouldn’t rouse her. I needed to come to you, to make sure you were alright.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want you, sir. But I couldn’t….”

“Neither could I. If you were someone I didn’t care about, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But I do care about you, Holly.” He eases his scarred fingers through my hair, cradling the back of my head. I can feel his voice vibrating his chest, low and velvet-soft. I close my eyes and just listen to that wonderful voice. Letting it soothe away the ache.

“I knew you loved me from the first time you looked at me. A slim young American servant, tall for her age, poised and respectful and eager to do well. Your pupils would dilate when you looked at me. I could all but hear your pulse quicken. You were twelve years old, and had your first crush. A year later, I came back from battle and my wrist was broken. Three ribs. Split lip and contusions all over my body. You were my personal servant. So I let you help me clean up. You gave me a bath for the first time after Wong tended my injuries, and you washed my hair for me. When I got into bed, you insisted on sitting at my bedside and reading to me until I fell asleep. I was exhausted, but I still felt the little kiss you pressed to my wrist, and heard you tell me that you would protect me. It was sweet. Innocent. Here was this young girl with no magic and no battle skills offering to protect the Sorcerer Supreme. I felt happy, and protective of you. A year later, you were fourteen and developing slowly into a woman. You excelled in your studies, helped the younger girls and boys with their English. You were full of questions and you asked them fearlessly. A visiting dignitary from another nation was here one night, and caught sight of you. He offered me an obscene amount of money if I would give you to him. I threw him out. I was angry. You never knew. When you were fifteen, I gave you permission to access the roof whenever you wished. I gave you the key to the rooftop shed where I kept my telescope and told you that you could use it. You did. Sometimes I would sit in the darkened alcove where no one could see me, meditating. I’d open my eyes to find you on the roof looking through that telescope in wonder at the stars. I was proud of you. My servant, among all the servants at all the Sanctums, was brighter and more curious than any other.”

I am weeping again, but he rubs my back soothingly and continues.

“You turned sixteen. A woman in many parts of the world. Still mostly a girl in my eyes. But I knew my feelings for you were changing. You’d developed into a quiet and serious young lady. I elevated you to the head of the staff, and you did an admirable job. I watched you as you guided the others to dust shelves and artifacts, clean the rooms, polish the silver and the banisters. But you yourself did the least desirable jobs. You scrubbed floors and cleaned fireplaces, took out the trash and cleaned bathrooms. Never asking anyone else to do these things even though you could have delegated them. Again, I felt proud that my personal servant did not see herself as above anyone else. You showed humility and work ethic and determination. Your hands were always soft and clean when you touched me, though. I would come home after a hard day, and you would come to the master bedroom and draw a basin of hot water and wash my feet. It embarrassed me the first few times, the gesture was so intimate. But you insisted, and I did enjoy the attention. Your whole world was centered on the Sanctum. On me. That’s a heady elixir for any man to taste. I found myself thinking about what a fine wife you would make someday, for some lucky man. But that was the same year I fought Dormammu for the second time, and I met Clea.”

I lean back, lifting my damp face from his chest, and he looks down at me. Gently, he lowers his head until our foreheads are touching, and his fingers stroke my cheek.

“I lost my objectivity in the face of her beauty and her exotic nature. Our attraction burned white-hot, like a young star. It was destructive even then. I let her dominate and abuse you, and all of my staff. They say that a man newly in love has pillows between his ears, and not sense. I certainly embodied the adage. Years passed, and I noticed you less and less. But I never forgot you. Which brings us to now, Holly. You are a woman now. An adult. You continue to conduct yourself with the highest level of respect and loyalty. You are efficient. You serve my wife and me breakfast in our marital bed and you don’t let the pain you’re feeling reach your face. I turned a blind eye to what you might be feeling. Clea and I fight. She leaves for days, sometimes weeks. I call for escorts, not even realizing what that might be doing to you. How it must make you feel. You, who has loved me since you were a child. Having to admit these women through the side door and wash their clothes and call them cabs when I’m finished with them. You never once complained. I broke your heart again and again, and yet it never stopped loving me. You told me in the car today that it’s still there. The same warm emotion that moved a thirteen year old girl to want to protect me is still moving a twenty year old woman to want to face down an interdimensional sorceress just to protect me from getting slapped.”

He chuckles, and I smile just a little.

“You never know when to stand back, sir.”

“I never expect it. I should, but it’s always a surprise when it happens. I would never hit her back. That’s not who I am.”

“You could take her on, and win.”

“That’s not how a real man behaves, Holly. I do not strike women unless we’re engaged in mortal combat and my life is on the line. Besides, part of me knows I deserve it. I’m a faithless fool who looks to others to fill the empty spaces in my heart. But I never realized that the most precious person in the world was right here, kneeling at my feet this whole time. I can’t give you everything you deserve. Not right now. But I want you to know that I do notice your devotion. And I do care.”

I trace the soft outline of his goatee with my fingertips, looking at his lips. Feeling weary and emotionally and physically drained. I am barely even capable of speech at this point. But I form the words anyway.

“Will you grant me a request, Master?”

“Name it.”

I look into his eyes, and there is no hesitation in mine.

“Be my first kiss.”

He seems taken aback by this, his eyebrows rising in surprise. I simply wait, trusting him to make the correct decision no matter what it is. But at last, he pulls me a little closer, and his right hand is on my cheek again.

“Lie back, Holly.”

I obey him at once, rolling onto my back and looking up at him as he leans over me. The hand on my cheek is moving down to my chest, then my stomach. I’m shaking for real now, and not from the nauseating fear that nearly paralyzed me earlier. That was wrong and frightening and awful and bad.

This is gentle and slow and very much wanted.

His fingers find the hem of my dress, and very hesitantly he draws it up, lifting it to the middle of my thighs. Then higher. I simply look at him, into his eyes with trust and love and acceptance. A ‘yes’ implicit in my expression.

Tenderly, he touches the cotton fabric of the panties I wear beneath my work dress. And his hand is warm. Without meaning to, my hips rise to meet that touch. I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from wantonly moaning.

“Relax.”

“Sir….”

“If you want me to stop, tell me. I will. You’re safe, Holly.” His voice is low and passionate and it brings up the tiny hairs on the backs of my arms and my neck. I shiver, but I shake my head. I do not want him to stop. I have no idea what’s happening in my body right now, the dark pressure rising in the pit of my stomach and the agonizing need growing between my trembling thighs. But I don’t question these things. I simply trust my Master, as I always have.

“That’s it. Relax. I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you.” He whispers, his lips millimeters from my own. There is a shifting, and movement beneath the blanket. And then the glorious, mind blowing weight of my Master rolling on top of me. Pinning me to the bed. I have never even dared to fantasize about this moment. He is heavy and warm and real and his arms are moving around me and I am gasping back tears. Slowly, my hands move up to caress his back, the soft cotton fabric of his pajama top bunching as I clutch it. There are no words to describe what is happening. No words to say.

A soft sound escapes me. It must be pleasing to him, for he smiles gently as he lowers his noble head to breathe against my lips. I am trembling beneath him, my eyes closing of their own accord.

“Master.” I whisper. He slides his hand down the side of my body again, and his fingertips ease aside the fabric of my sturdy, sensible undergarments. Touching me very softly at the forbidden place between my thighs. His fingers know the way, though they have never touched me here. Now I do whimper, a sound that he does not shrink from. Carefully, he caresses the petals of my nether flower, feeling the slickness of the honey that his touch has inspired.

“Under the circumstances, I want you to call me Stephen.”

“I can’t. It’s disrespectful.”

“Say it, Holly. Whisper my name.”

So close to my lips, and the fingers of his right hand are easing between the soft folds at the apex of my shaking legs. I have never been touched like this. Never. I have never even touched the place myself except to clean my body. But he is deftly rubbing my pearl of sensitive nerves, knowing full well what effect it will have, breathing against my lips but not kissing me yet. Until I am thrashing beneath him, practically weeping again.

“Please.”

“Say it.”

“……S-Stephen. Master. Don’t torment me.”

Even though I trip over the first letter of his name, it is enough for him. He lowers his lips to mine, and then I am kissing my Master. The softest lips in the world, the subtle tickle of his beard, the erotic fire of his tongue meeting mine. There is no mistaking the moan that rises from me as I ease my arms around him and draw him closer. And his hand, delving into places that have never been touched, moves a little faster. I struggle, but he is holding me firm, partially pinned beneath his body, and I can go nowhere. I lose my head entirely, beating at him with weak fists as the feeling rises and rises to excruciating proportions. Weeping. Kissing him desperately. Feeling as though I am being tortured with pleasure. That is it. This is torture, glorious blissful torture that goes on and on and has no end.

Until it does.

With a sharp cry against him, my hips rise from the bed and my entire body quakes violently as a series of explosions ricochet through me. My breasts tingle, my lips, my toes, my womanhood, the pit of my stomach. Even my fingertips and the blazing patches in my cheeks. He leans up, looking down at me to gauge the blissful damage his touch and kiss have wrought. I am undone beneath him, tears sliding down my cheeks and my face red with shame and pleasure. I try to hide my face in his neck, but he stops me. Chuckling softly.

“Easy Holly. Easy. Take a few deep breaths. This is normal. You’re alright.”

“I’m dying!”

“You’re not dying, beautiful girl. What happened to you is completely natural. It can happen a dozen times a night and you won’t die.”

“I can’t! I can’t!”

“Shhhhh.” He cradles me in his arms, moving his hand up to rub my back. I am held against him, shivering uncontrollably, my whole body still convulsing every few seconds as the aftershocks sing along my nerve endings. At last, I am still. Clinging to him, bewildered and in love and undone. Master Strange whispers against my hair.

“I’m honored that your first climax was with me, Holly. It won’t be the last.”

“What’s a climax?”

“You are too precious. Hush now. Try to sleep. I’ll hold you for a few hours, I’ll be right here.”

“I need to cry.”

“Then cry. I won’t judge you. I never have.”

So I do. In my Master’s arms, in the narrow confines of my bed, I weep against his chest as he runs his fingertips up and down my spine. Eventually, weary beyond belief and mentally drained, I drift off to sleep while he holds me. Clinging to him. Not wanting to let go. Before I fall into rest, I murmur his name again.

“Stephen. You filled me with light.”

“It’s only the beginning, Holly.”

“I love you.”

“I know. Rest.”

And I do.


	7. At His Feet

I awaken alone.

My Master is gone, the bed beside me empty, and for a moment I feel the excruciating stab of loss. Was last night a dream? But no. His pajama top lies neatly folded beside my pillow, still smelling faintly of his body and his cologne. I slowly pull it towards me, pressing it to my face and closing my eyes.

It was real. He was in my bed, and we kissed, and he touched me intimately, and I fell asleep in his arms. Things that happen in the dead of night have a different cast to them in the light of morning. Now that my mind is awake, I can think clearly about him. About what occurred, and how I ought to conduct myself in this new landscape of closeness. We crossed a line together. I asked him to kiss me, and he did so. He touched me, and I wanted him to. While his wife slept only a floor away, we shared something that only married people should share. Why don’t I feel guilty? I should.

I can’t lie in bed indefinitely, there’s work to be done. If I don’t bring breakfast to the master bedroom, Clea will know that her cruelty towards me last night hit home, and she will only get worse. So I need to pull myself together. First thing is first, thought. I need a shower.

The pajama top, I fold again and tuck securely beneath my mattress. Our secret. I plan to sleep in it tonight, and envelope myself in the comfort of his clothing the way a love-struck teenager does when she steals her boyfriend’s shirt. Harmless? Perhaps. I shouldn’t be so happy today, I shouldn’t be nearly floating as I rise from my bed and neatly make it. I shouldn’t be humming to myself as I gather my bathing articles and let myself out into the hallway. But I am. It is six am, and there is time for a shower before I begin work.

The communal bathroom is already occupied when I open the door and go inside. This is a comforting, pleasant place, with potted palms and scented candles in little alcoves around the large stone room. The staff are mostly awake, preparing for their day. A few girls are by the low bench before the mirrors, chatting in Nepali, brushing and braiding each other’s hair. Amara is tugging the smallest dress she can find on over her head, her curls damp and all over the place. She beams at me, happier than she has been in a very long time. I smile back as I head to one of the shower units, to undress in the stall with the curtain closed. We are all somewhat modest here, as the two male staff also use the bathroom and it would be unseemly to display our bodies to the eyes of the opposite sex. One young girl is singing a cheerful folk song. This will be the first full day of the lifted ban on contact between the female staff and Master Strange, and everyone is in light spirits. I turn on the spray and step beneath the hot water, sighing with pleasure.  
Ten minutes later, I am fully clean and shaved, wrapped in a towel and seated in front of one of the mirrors to comb and braid my hair. Nothing could dampen my mood this morning. Nothing.

The door to the hall bangs open abruptly, causing everyone to jump. Amara, who is closest to the door, gives a squeak of fear and bolts into a toilet stall. I turn around in my chair to see what the fuss is. No one slams or flings open doors here, we are far too well trained. The moment I see who is standing in the entryway, looking aggravated and battle-ready, my heart sinks in my chest. I rise to my feet, clapping my hands once sharply to bring the room to order. Girls cease talking, but everyone has scattered and backed as far from the door as they can. It’s a good thing Ming isn’t here. She’s probably still with Wong.

I move forward, bowing slightly.

“Mistress Clea, you’re awake early.” I tell her smoothly. She’s dressed in her purple robe and a white nightgown. She doesn’t say a single word at first. In three paces, she’s standing right in front of me. Looking down at me with actual anger in her eyes. For a moment, I’m one hundred percent certain that she somehow found out about her husband being in my room last night.  
Then her hand cracks against my face hard enough to turn my head. An audible gasp rises from the assembled girls. Amara, hiding in her bathroom stall, opens the door a tiny bit to stare out in horror at what just happened.

Clea has never struck me before. Never.

It takes me a moment to regain my senses. My lip is bleeding, and my vision is blurred. I lose the hearing in my left ear momentarily. I raise a hand to touch my cheek, looking at her in shock. The girls behind me are covering their mouths. They’ve never seen anyone treat the head of staff so disrespectfully. For my part, I can’t even think of a single thing to say.

“I know you’re behind this, Holly.” Clea is saying, her voice shaking with rage. “Stephen told me that the female slaves will be serving him again! You KNOW how I feel about that! But you couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you.”

She looks up at the rest of them, her violet eyes narrowed.

“I may have to put up with this new situation, but I CERTAINLY don’t have to like it. You will all be watched. Closely. And if you step out of line and behave with even the slightest amount of inappropriate conduct, I will invoke the right of punishment. This is the only Sanctum where corporal correction isn’t in use to control the staff. That ends. TODAY. You have all been warned.”

It is then that I find my voice.

“With deepest respect, Mistress….it is not in your power to correct anyone here. Only the Master of the Sanctum is permitted to physically punish a member of the staff. Not Master Wong, and not you either. If I must take this matter to the High Council, I certainly will. You will not lay a hand on any servant here. That is your husband’s decision.”

If the staff were horrified before, they are three times as frightened now. Knowing that this whole room might be filled with the Flames of the Faltine in a matter of seconds, several of the girls have ducked into shower stalls to hide. Amara pulls the stall door shut again, weeping.

Clea takes one more step toward me, threateningly. She is taller than I am. Stronger. Older. More powerful by a vast amount. She grips me by the throat, her long nails digging into my skin, and her voice has gone low and deadly.

“Keep the pets in line, Holly. Or I will see to it personally that you’re flogged within an inch of your life. You think he wouldn’t lift a hand to you if I demanded it? You have no idea how much power I could exert in this household. I’m the one he chose. I am the one he married. I am the one he loves. I am the Mistress of the Sanctum. It would bring me great pleasure to see him have to beat you. I suppose you think he would refuse? Test that theory. Disobedience has a price. And you don’t know my husband’s desires as well as I do. He RELISHES meting out punishment, although he has never dared do so with me. I rather think he’s already had fantasies of correcting you, little girl. He is a natural Dominant. I’ve always known it. He’s admitted it to me, and I told him what he could do with the inclination. But you? You’re a weak, sniveling little natural submissive. Your place is and always will be on the floor at his feet, taking whatever he sees fit to give you. If even one member of this staff steps out of line…you’ll find out what the Sorcerer Supreme is really like under all those cordial words and his honorable veneer. And after he’s finished with you, his passions are bound to be roused. I’ll have a lovely night while you tend your wounds. Ruminate on THAT for a bit, Holly. Now bring up the breakfast tray, and serve your Mistress with respectful restraint. I will be in the bedroom. He’s in his study. AGAIN.”

With that, she releases me and turns for the door, stalking out of the room like a tiger prowling away from a meal it’s too full to finish. There is dead silence in her wake.

I have to say something. The staff are all standing in stricken silence, no one moving. No one even daring to breathe. So I turn around, taking a deep breath. Pushing my own feelings down into the pit of my stomach where they sit like a pile of stones.

“You heard her. Not a one of you will be punished directly. Carry on with business as usual.”

“But Miss Holly…”

“It will be fine. I’ll stand between all of you and Mistress Clea if I must. No one in this room is going to taste her wrath. We have denied Master Strange proper care for three years now, and he was very specific in his wishes that the rules I implemented for your protection, without his knowledge, be lifted. Amara, come out of the toilet. She’s gone. Now I need all of you to be as professional as possible. Let’s begin our day, shall we? Emma, Karmania, Nima, the three of you will gather the laundry and bring it to the washing room. The sheets in the master bedroom and Master Wong’s chambers will need to be changed. And it’s a Thursday, which means that all of the bedding in the servants’ quarters needs to be changed and cleaned as well. Amara and Pasang, the antiquities room needs dusting. After that, you’ll mop the floors in all of the libraries. Ming, when I see her, will be set to cooking of course. The two gentlemen are to paint over the water damage to the ceiling in the north library. Sumati will be on mending duty. I will be cleaning bathrooms today, including this one. So do wipe down the shower stalls when you’ve finished in them to avoid water spotting.”

I clap my hands again. “Come on, ladies. Let’s get to work. The morning is getting on. Please relax. The excitement is over for now. All is well. Now I want to make something clear; we will not mention what happened in here to the Masters. Understood? They do not need the additional stress. The situation has been handled.”

Slowly, reluctantly, they begin to move. Thirty minutes pass, and the room gradually clears out as the girls finish dressing and head out to tend to their assigned tasks for the day. The laundry from the master bedroom will be left for last, as usual. It is better to wait for the occupants to vacate and go on about their days than attempt to work around them. I get dressed, pull on my socks and slippers, finish braiding my hair, and touch on enough makeup to cover the red mark on my cheek and my split lip. This is nothing. This is nothing. This is nothing. I keep repeating the mantra as I compose myself. Finally, I am fully pulled together, and I step out into the hall to walk to the kitchen and assemble breakfast for Clea, Wong, and Master Strange.

I’ve just put the finishing touches on the trays when Ming comes into the kitchen, stretching happily. She’s positively blissful. I keep my left side turned away from her to hide my face.

“Did you pass a pleasant night, Ming?”

“It was fantastic. He let me snuggle up next to him and sleep there the whole night! We kissed for a little while and he gave me a back massage. Then I gave him one. We talked about you.”

“I’m touched. Was it my fashion sense?” I smooth down the skirt of the shapeless dress, and Ming laughs.

“We should petition Stephen to let us change the dress code up a little. Hey, mind if I take Joseph his tray? He’s starving. Why is breakfast so late this morning?”

“I…took a very long shower. I was weary after last night.”

“Oh I’ll bet. Are you ok?”

“Yes. There was a slight issue this morning when Mistress Clea found out about the lifting of the rules, but I handled it.” I pick up the other two trays and turn toward the door, not wanting to linger and possibly have to talk about this. Ming is the last person who needs to know about the slap. The staff will eventually gossip about it, though. I don’t know how to handle this. Maybe I’ll need to confide in Wong after all, just so he can help me corral Ming when the time comes. I change the subject, brightening my tone. “So you spent the night with Master Wong! Does he snore?”

The look on her face melts from concern to happiness again, and she laughs as she hefts the tray. “Only a little! It’s adorable. I would rather listen to him snore than listen to anyone else read poetry! I am so in love, Holly. This is the greatest feeling in the world.”

  
“I’m glad. Now scoot! Get up there and feed that poor starving sorcerer before he faints!”

Ming giggles and turns away to mount the back staircase. I make my way to the front hall, balancing a tray with each hand, and on the landing I set Master Strange’s tray on the hall table before walking to the master bedroom to respectfully tap on the door.

“Enter.” Clea says flatly, and I push the door open. I bring the tray to the coffee table and set it down, then turn to her.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath while you eat, Mistress?”

She tosses the arcane tome she’s been reading aside, looking at me.

“You know, I’ve noticed something about you Holly.”

“And what is that, Mistress?”

“You never lose your cool, do you. You speak formally and respectfully most of the time, except when you’re with Wong or my husband. Then you have these adorable little moments of inappropriate playfulness. Almost as though you’re daring them to be firm with you, bring you back under control. You don’t speak to me in a playful manner, ever. Always the formal Holly. The Holly with the right responses. This is how you’ve stayed alive this long, you know. This is why I still tolerate your presence. Because you’re respectful and obedient. Come here.”

“Yes Mistress.” I go to her, but I do not kneel by the velvet settee. I have never knelt for her. My hands are clasped in front of me, and I lower my head slightly.

Clea reaches up and takes my wrist, pulling me down into a sitting position beside her. I am instantly wary, instantly on full and high alert. She’s smiling ever so slightly as she leans forward to pick up her mug of tea.

“We should really be friends, don’t you think? Even though your interference in the running of my staff is endlessly aggravating. I would miss the little chats we have. How was your night?”

“It was quiet, Mistress. I checked on Master Wong and then went to bed.”

“How sweet.” She takes a sip of tea, sighing. “My night was simply wonderful. We made love twice, can you believe it? I think I exhausted my husband! He’s the most enthusiastic, passionate lover in the multiverse, of that I’m certain. And he’s so in love with me. He whispered in my ear that I was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Don’t you think that’s romantic?”

“I think it’s very accurate, Mistress Clea. Your beauty is your greatest asset.”

“You really think so? Thank you, Holly.” She touches my cheek, the cheek she slapped earlier, and it is almost kind. I relax a little. There is something in me that desperately wants every single member of this house to be calm and content and happy. If the denizens of the Sanctum are happy, then I have done my job properly. I lift my own hand, and I take hers in mine. Her purple eyes focus on me, and she tilts her head.

“Mistress Clea, I apologize for upsetting you this morning. It was completely out of line for me to discuss the behavior of the staff with Master Strange and not include you. I hope that you can find it possible to forgive me. I would hate for there to be bad blood between us.”

 _Your husband kissed me last night. He held me. You may be the most beautiful woman he has ever seen…but I am the kindest to him._ I think these things, and I do not say them. I pat her hand instead, and smile.

“Now how about that bath? Your husband’s breakfast will stay warm for a few minutes more. I can at least start the water for you, and lay a towel over the rack by the fireplace. Would that soothe you?”

Of all the things she was expecting, this was not among them. For a moment her eyes narrow. But there is nothing in my demeanor or my words or my expression to put her on edge. Finally, she shrugs.

“I can draw my own bath this morning. But thank you, Holly. You definitely have the right demeanor for this position. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I rise to my feet, bowing slightly to her again, and slip out of the bedroom before she can change her mind, or perhaps hit me again just for the hell of it.

When I reach the study, the door is closed. I balance the tray on my hip and push the door open, stepping inside and pulling it shut behind me again. And I turn the lock. My heart is hammering in my chest. I feel angry, I feel weak, I feel the outrage of the unjustly abused. My cheek hurts. I am tired. All of these things matter. All of these things are completely un-fixable at the moment. My job was never exactly an easy one, but it was never a living hell until the past year. The past week in particular.

He is standing at the table by the bay window, carefully crushing herbs with a mortar and pestle, Levi hanging restlessly from his shoulders.

“Good morning, Master.”

He turns around, seeing me standing there in the dim light, and he sets the implements aside and comes forward. His arms wrap around my body tightly. I lean into that perfect embrace and close my eyes. The experience of the night before was not some sort of fluke or impulse after all. This is real. His feelings are real. I relax, sighing. Master Strange is gently trailing his gloved fingers down my back, and his voice is soft against my ear.

“Good morning, Holly. I’m sorry I had to leave before you awoke. But you looked beautiful while you were sleeping and I didn’t want to ruin it. You needed your rest.” He straightens, touching my chin. I try to lower my head.

“Thank you for leaving your pajama top. I’d like to wear it to bed, with your permission.”

“That was the inten……what happened to your cheek? Holly did someone….god DAMN it. It was my wife, wasn’t it?! When did this occur?!”

“Master, it’s nothing. She was simply displeased with the new arrangements. We’ve worked things out. I apologized, and she’s being polite again. It’s best to simply let this drop.”

He makes a fist, slamming it down on the table, and all around us there is a crackling in the air as power suffuses the room. The temperature rises sharply, and on the wall the stone gargoyle head lets out a low snarl. I reach up to touch my Master’s face, looking into his eyes.

“Do you really think a mage battle will help anything? Who do you imagine will clean up the mess, sir? I’ve a great deal to do as it is. It’s laundry day.”

“I won’t tolerate the physical abuse of my personal servant, or anyone else in this house.”

“Your wife seems to think you might enjoy meting out a bit of punishment.” I need to deescalate the situation before it gets worse. So I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek, whispering to him. “If your intention is to hand out spankings then we can discuss such things, sir.”

  
The effect is instantaneous. He steps back, taking me by the shoulders, and the electricity in the room subsides. The temperature decreases. His pale eyes are intense.

“It wasn’t her place to talk about that with you. Suffice it to say that there are sides of me you will never see, Holly. The last thing in the world I would ever want to do is strike you for any reason. Now don’t change the subject. This is serious, you’ve been mishandled and I can’t let it go without comment. I’ll have a word with her.”

“Master…the last time you had a word with her didn’t go so well.”

“She hit you. In the face. In eight years here, you have never been abused.”

“I assure you, I’m more than alright. We’ve come to terms. Please, come and have some breakfast.”

“Tell Clea I wish to speak with her. Now.”

“She’s in the bath, sir. And I would really rather not be the one sent to fetch her for a lecture, if at all possible. Of course I won’t disobey a direct order if you insist.”

He turns my face to the side, glaring at the red mark on my cheek that the makeup has failed to fully hide. The cut on my lip left from her ring.

Tenderly, he presses his lips to both places, and folds me into his arms again. I hug him back, never wanting this moment to end. I would endure a thousand slaps a day if this was to be the response to them. Something warm touches my back, and I open my eyes and look behind me without letting go.

“Sorry about that. He’s very sensitive to my moods.”

It’s Levi, of course. A generous fold of the Cloak of Levitation is wrapped around my lower back, tugging me even closer to its master. I laugh and softly pet the fabric.

“Thank you, Levi. I love you very much too. Does he fancy your wife as well?”

Master Strange releases me, bestowing a final kiss on my forehead, and crosses to his desk to sit behind it.

“He used to. In the very beginning, he was extremely fond of her. She found the winters here to be intolerable, and he would wrap around her as often as possible to keep the chill away. I…miss my wife, Holly. But I hope you don’t think I was using you last night to alleviate that sorrow. I wasn’t. What happened was completely about you…and me.”

“I know, Master.” I withdraw a dusting cloth from my pocket and begin wiping down the edge of the shelf closest to him. He slides the breakfast tray toward himself and lifts the lid from the tea pot to inspect its contents.

“Chamomile?”

“Yes sir, with extra honey.”

Brooding, aggravated, still rippling with restless power…the Sorcerer Supreme drinks his tea.

I dust the study, then put away the rolling cart of unshelved books he’s taken down to read and then laid aside. When I’ve finished, I move to stand behind him, rubbing his shoulders. He relaxes at my touch.

What can I say about my life at the moment? It’s complicated. It’s dangerous. It’s painful. It’s exciting. It’s mine. This is my life, though I have no idea how I’m supposed to handle it now. The most powerful man on the planet is stabbing his bacon repeatedly in annoyance right in front of me. I want to hold him and kiss him everywhere my lips can reach and ask him to run away with me to some deserted tropical island where we can hide from his wife and eat coconuts and sleep naked in the warm sand for the rest of our lives.

But I don’t even know how to open a coconut. And I don’t know how to build a shelter from palm fronds or how to make love or anything else that might be valuable to him on an island.

I keep rubbing his shoulders, finally reaching down to lay a hand on top of his.

“Has the bacon suffered enough, Master?”

He tosses aside the fork and turns in his chair, catching my wrist and pulling me onto his lap.

Dominant. And I am a sniveling submissive. There is brutal truth to Clea’s words, and it cuts into my heart like shards of glass. I avert my eyes, but I don’t struggle.

“You were hurt this morning. It was an indirect result of my conversation with my wife. I feel terrible for the pain I’ve caused you.”

  
“You caused no pain, sir. Mistress Clea’s actions and motivations are challenging for even you to predict. No one could have known that she would be so upset.”

“I should have known.”

I touch his left cheek, then my own, and I smile.

“I’m in good company. We can bond over the strength in your wife’s right arm, if nothing else.”

But he doesn’t laugh. His large hand moves to cup my cheek, and his eyes are stormy.

“This is putting me in a difficult position, Holly. I love my wife.”

“I know, sir. As you should.”

His voice drops, soft and deep and wonderful to my ears.

“Last night wasn’t meaningless to me, though.”

“Master, I will hold you to no promises. You were comforting a distraught servant. Nothing more.”

“She’s leaving for a few days.”

I blink.

“What?”

“To the Dark Dimension, to check on her kingdom. I offered to go with her, but she refused. Told me I’m too well known there, and it would only cause trouble. Her mother still holds immense power in the place. She’s hoping to avoid her notice entirely. Clea told me that she’s bored and needs to seek some excitement. This time, she wants to do it alone. No telling how long she’ll be away.”

I don’t know what to say. My chest is filled with longing, but also with a multitude of warnings and misgivings and fears and reluctance.

I begin to slide off his lap, and to his credit he does not stop me. I pace before the desk, hugging myself, tormented with hope and also with foreboding.

“I…have to stay away from you, sir. I’ll see to it that Ming cares for you during the time your wife is away.”

He sits back in his chair, watching me with eyes that are, in this light, a definitive green. It is not always so easy to tell their color.

“Explain.”

“I can’t trust myself to behave properly around you in light of recent events. I need to regain control and focus. I need to recover my morality and my honor, I need to….”

He’s rising to his feet, coming around the desk. I back up so fast that I slam into a shelf of books, and several of them topple to the floor. I’m on my knees at once, picking them up, still talking.

“…I need to maintain professionalism. I need to rid myself of these feelings before they destroy me. You are married. You are in love. You are the Sorcerer Supreme. You are Doctor Strange, Master of the New York Sanctum. I am nothing. I am no one. I am a servant. My place is on my knees with my head down, not standing by your side. You are a Dominant. I’m a weak little submissive whose place is on the floor at your feet. I’m a slave.”

He draws up short, stunned at the words. Then he’s kneeling beside me, reaching for the last few books with his scarred hands. He puts them on top of the stack in my arms, but we don’t rise to our feet yet. I meet his eyes, and mine are filled with tears.

“Who told you that submissives are weak, Holly?”

“Mistress Clea, sir.”

“Put the books down. Look at me.”

Slowly, I do. I can’t help it. I cannot help but obey him, as though my entire soul were perfectly attuned to it. His voice is low, intimate, only for us in this moment.

“You think I don’t know what you are? Haven’t known what you are from the moment I met you, and you lowered your eyes? You think I can’t read in your every movement what it is your body and heart and mind crave? I can. I do. I see you, Holly. I have always seen you. Now tell me. Have I ever led you to believe that I think of you as weak? Or that your only use to me is groveling on the floor at my feet?”

“No sir.” I can barely whisper the words. The white noise of panic has filled my ears again. But underneath it all, in some dark and secret place, a glorious calm is descending over the parts of me that has always sought this exact situation.

Master Strange touches my shoulder, and I place my hand on top of his. Looking into his eyes with love and hope and fear and obedience. This moment is terrifying.

It is also the most perfect moment of my life.

“There is so much about me that you do not know. But you’re learning, thanks to Clea. I would rather you receive this knowledge first hand instead of through rumors and snide comments.”

He takes a deep breath, looking up towards the light as it pours in through the window. We are both kneeling in this moment. Kneeling together on the floor of his study, and he is not towering over me with violence on his mind, nor is he affixing a chain about my throat and brutally yanking on it. But something is happening. Some Truth is about to be revealed, and before he even speaks I know what it is.

“She’s not lying to you. I do enjoy disciplining my lovers. Clea would never submit to such a thing, and I’m not some sort of bully who demands that she set aside her own comfort simply to please me. She was not lying about my proclivities, either. I do consider myself a Dominant. It is as natural to me as being a submissive is to you. And Holly…you are a submissive. Not weak. Not sniveling. Submissives are among the strongest people in existence. It is not something a person merely plays at. It is woven into the fabric of their very being. You feel most at ease when the illusion of choice is taken from you, and you are told what to do.”

I can barely whisper the word, my voice shaking.

“Yes.”

“You feel more than just satisfaction when you are doing as you’re told. You feel pleasure. Most especially when the orders are delivered with clarity by someone who is comfortably in command.”

“Yes Master.”

“You feel a thrill in your stomach when you say that word, don’t you.”

I lower my eyes, ashamed. I have never felt so called out before.

“Say it again. Look at me, and call me Master.”

“I can’t. It’s…..it’s bad and wrong to think these things…”

“That’s an order, Holly.”

Immediately, my head rises. I look into his eyes, and my voice is a little stronger.

“You are my Master.”

“Speak your heart.”

“You are my Master, and I want no other. I want to learn from no other. I want to submit to no other. I want to love no other. I will kneel at your feet for the rest of my life. Not because I have to, but….but because I want to. I want to with all my soul.”

He sits back on his heels, looking deeply satisfied. For a moment he just looks at me. Then he is picking up the stack of books and rising to his feet, his deep blue robes swaying slightly with the movement. He places the stack on the edge of his desk. I remain kneeling, looking up at him with the strangest and most intense feeling of rightness I have ever known. It seems the most natural thing in the world, when he beckons to me, to come to him on my knees and stay down, looking up at him.

“This complicates things even further.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I never meant to complicate anything.”

“You are exactly what I want, Holly.”

I have nothing to say to this. I move a little closer, and rest my forehead against his knee. After a few seconds he strokes the back of my head.

We are silent. A veil has been lifted between us. We both know our place, and both of us long to cement the new knowledge with action. But we don’t. We can’t. I lift a hand to touch his thigh, gripping his robes. Tears slipping silently down a cheek that still stings from his wife’s hand.

Things have not gotten better.

They’ve become worse.


	8. Revelation

We are sitting together quietly. He’s finished breakfast, as much of it as I could get him to eat. We are looking at one another, but not for long. Every few seconds, he glances at me. I glance at him. And again, the unspoken Something passes between us, sinks below the surface, and is lost.  
  
I clear my throat, and he looks up.

“When will your wife be leaving?”

“Tonight, after dinner. She wishes to have a quiet evening with me before departing for her home.”

“I see. Is there anything in particular you think she would like for the evening meal?”

“I highly doubt she cares, Holly. Serve whatever you were intending to serve.”

“Kraft macaroni and cheese, and Campbell’s tomato soup.”

He almost smiles, amused.

“Be serious.”

I lower my head, still feeling the excitement and need and tension between us. She will be leaving. His wife will be leaving. And we will be alone. I should run. I should stay. I should deny this. I should embrace it.

“Ming is making pressed duck with whipped potatoes and vegetable fried rice. An apricot tart for dessert. You know how much she loves to work with apricots.”

“She’s a savant with them. I look forward to the meal.”

I don’t mean to, but the words come tumbling out anyway.

“Will I be sleeping in the master bedroom tonight, sir?”

He quietly glances up at me, setting aside his teacup.

“If I asked you to, what would be your response?”

“It would be yes, Master.”

“You have your answer.”

I bite my lip, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. There is so much I wish to say. Yet I find myself unable to speak it out.

He notices, of course, and pushes away the breakfast tray. Still half full.

“If you don’t want to be with me, then say so. I have never forced a woman to endure my company, and I won’t do so now.”

“Would we have to make love?”

“No.”

“Would there be any impropriety?”

“I don’t know.”

I look down at my hands, folded in my lap.

“I’m not your wife.”

“I know.”

“You’re still married.”

“Yes.”

“Is this what I am to you, Master? A transitory pleasure?”

“You know better than that.”

I meet his eyes, and he doesn’t look away. There are several tense moments that pass. Finally, I reach forward and touch his arm across the desk.

“I want to spend the night with you, Master Strange.”

“You’re not afraid of what might happen?”

“Of course I am, sir. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid at this point.”

He lowers his eyes to his desk, surveying the many letters that lie there unopened and the many letters that he’s already gone through. Desperate pleas for help, curious questions, ridiculous conspiracy theories, fan mail, nude photographs from women across the globe, a few birthday cards from the Avengers, a note from his brother Vincent. And he sweeps them all into a pile and dumps half of them into a desk drawer, sighing. Reaching for the other half.

“There are precious few things that bring me joy these days, Holly. The prospect of holding you for even one more night is an enticing one.”

“I’m sure I don’t understand why, sir. I am only a servant. There are plenty of other women who would jump at the chance to spend a night with you.” I lean forward and pluck a birthday card from the pile. It’s from Wanda Maximoff, and inside there’s a long handwritten message punctuated with three small, drawn hearts. I tap my fingers on it. “You really do have your pick. You’re handsome and fearless, everyone knows and loves you. It would be thrilling, wouldn’t it? To cross a line or two with a friend?”

He picks up the card and reads it, then places it in the drawer with the rest.

“I’ve already crossed lines with her. Any more activity could lead to a strain on the friendship.”

“You’re not afraid of straining our friendship, sir?”

“Oddly enough, no. I highly doubt you’d ever become obsessed, or destructive, or jealous. You’re not like most of the population, Holly. I’m not talking about your physical appearance. It’s your demeanor and your nature that attract me. This has always been the case.”

I don’t know what to say to this, and so I get to my feet and move to the window to look out at the city. We are perched on the edge of a precipice, Master Strange and I. He knows my feelings now. I know his. I have learned just in the past fifteen minutes that there is a great deal more to him than I originally thought. More secrets, perhaps even what some women might find to be deviant ones. It’s odd, then, that I don’t find anything about him off-putting or repulsive. I turn to look at him.

“When you say that you discipline your lovers…what does that mean? Do you engage in these activities with the escorts, or only with women who are your friends and associates?” I am thinking specifically of the Night Nurse, Linda Carter, and her dark eyes and dark hair and slow, sensual smile.

He sits back in his chair, steepling his fingers and watching me.

“I don’t engage in my darker fantasies with friends and associates, Holly. That’s how rumors are spread. The escorts are paid well for their silence. I only told Clea in a moment of raw honesty because she asked me in bed one night what my fantasies were. Foolishly, I told her. She laughed at me and called me sick, then told me that if I ever struck her it would be the last thing I did. I never mentioned it again.”

I touch the chilly window pane, watching the way the glass fogs around my fingertip.

“What is the discipline?”

“Physical correction. You mentioned spanking before, and I think you intuitively knew that you hit a nerve. Now, knowing this, do you find me sick? Unattractive? Maybe even offensive?”

“No Master.” I look back at him over my shoulder, and my voice is suddenly firm. “I think you are perfect, as I always have. I am simply wondering what it would feel like. Until this morning, I’ve never been struck at all. How hard do you strike your lovers? Is there a mark?”

“At times. It depends on if I use my hand or some other implement. I always obtain permission before it happens, and I never progress if the safe word is uttered.”

“Safe word?”

“A word that both parties agree to honor the moment it’s spoken. All activities will stop and a reassessment will take place.”

I turn around, clasping my hands in front of me. Our eyes meet. He’s not holding back from speaking with me honestly about these things. Even though they are deep secrets that he’s only shared with his wife once and a small group of highly paid women who serve his needs. I’m touched that he’s being so transparent with me. Walking back to his desk, I take my seat again and fold my hands in my lap. Legs crossed demurely at the ankle, back straight, eyes lowered.

“What safe word would we use, if such a thing were needed?”

“Is such a thing needed, Holly?”

“I am simply being thorough, sir.”

He thinks for a moment, and I can hear the tapping of his fingers against the dark mahogany of his desk.

“Sanctuary.” He finally says. I lift my head, and we look at one another.

“Sanctuary.” I repeat, and then I nod. “Then this shall be our safe word, Master. I promise not to use it unless at great need. I have other questions.”

“Ask them then. I’ll tell you the truth.”

“You said a real man doesn’t strike women.”

“And I meant it. A real man would never hit a woman in anger. Pleasure is another matter, and only when it is agreed upon.”

“Why does it please you?”

“It shows a great deal of trust. Produces new and sharp sensations that mellow into still other sensations. There is something provocative about being both the source of pain and its cure. I always soothe them when the discipline is over with. After care is vital.”

“How hard do you strike them?”

“No more than they can bear. I don’t break the skin.”

I bite my lip, nodding slightly. We have never spoken like this before. It’s opening up a whole new world in my mind. Until last night, I didn’t even know what a climax was. I am terribly innocent when it comes to these matters.

But it matters to my Master. And so I want to know.

“Does a…a Dominant…love his submissives?”

“Some of them.”

I blurt out a burning question that has bothered me for some time.

“Do you love your escorts?”

“No. I respect them. I like them. But love? No. I reserve that word for a very special connection.”

“You love Mistress Clea.”

“Yes.”

I look down at the medallion on its beaded cord around my neck. Thinking. Wondering if I even want to know the answer to the next question I’m about to ask. Patiently, Master Strange waits for me to make the decision as to whether I will vocalize it or not. I’m certain that he knew it was coming at some point.

“Master.”

“Yes Holly.”

“Do you……love me?”

I’ve told him that I love him. He has acknowledged that he knows, and has known for some time. But he’s never said the word to me. I can’t meet his eyes. I don’t think I could endure it if there was cool amusement in them, or derision, or regret. We hold our silence for a few moments, and then he rises from his chair and comes around the desk.

I am drawn to my feet, still unable to look at him, and he sits in the chair I’d just occupied and pulls me onto his lap like a child. Tenderly, I am cradled against his chest. I rest my head on his shoulder, the rough linen of his deep blue tunic against my cheek. He presses a kiss to my temple, stroking my hair.

“What do you think, Holly?”

“I don’t presume to know, sir.”

“Then I’ve failed in my efforts to make it known.” He sighs. Gently, he lifts my chin. “I do love you. I’ve loved you since you came here.”

“You must love all of your staff then.”

“I do love all of my staff. Headstrong Ming and sweet Amara and playful Karmania and studious Pasang and gentle Nima and energetic Sumati and hardworking Kaleb and adventurous Tenzin. And I love beautiful, obedient, intelligent, tender hearted, capable Holly most of all. Look at me.”

Tears fill my eyes at his words. I lift them to look into his, as he instructed.

“Holly, I love you.”

“I love you too, Master. I love you so much it hurts.”

“I know.”

My words come out in a breathless rush.

“I would let you discipline me, if you wanted it. I could give you this, so you wouldn’t have to seek it from the escorts. Anything they can bring you…I could give to you instead. I don’t know what to do. I will need to be shown. But you needn’t ever call them again. You have a servant here who won’t charge you to spend time with her. Who will keep your secrets and never reveal them. Who will learn what it is you like and what you do not like and give to you everything you wish without hesitation or complaint. I have nothing to offer you except myself. I offer you that.”

He rocks me, saying nothing, holding me close and tight until I could die of love. Minutes pass. Minutes that gather into a half hour. Finally, the bells chime across Greenwich Village, signaling the arrival of one o’clock. He sighs and eases me back to look at my face.

“Tonight, after Clea leaves, I want you to come to the master bedroom. Use the side staircase. Make certain you’re not seen. There will be a white dress hanging in your closet by the time you return to your bedroom. I want you to wear it. Bring my pajama top. You will be wearing it to bed. I won’t take your virginity, Holly. I promise you that. But if you can bear it, and you are fully willing, I will discipline you. I won’t do it because you have done something wrong. You never have. I will do it because it pleases me. Hopefully you will find that it pleases you too. If you’re afraid that you can’t keep silent…that is when the Mirror Dimension will be utilized. I won’t hurt you more than you can handle. After the correction, I will want to take a bath with you. And then we will drink wine together, and talk. When we go to bed, you will be next to me. The sheets are being changed today. You won’t even smell Clea’s perfume. It will be only you and I. No one will disturb us. I’ll see to it. Tonight, I will coax you into the second climax of your life. But not with my hands this time. And then you will fall asleep in my arms, and I will hold you until morning. Keep the staff from the master bedroom tomorrow. I want privacy with you. Do you understand?”

“I……I d-do sir. I’ll see to it.”

“I have work to do. You are dismissed.”

I slide off his lap and straighten my dress, bowing.

“Yes Master.”

“I will see you after dinner. When Clea has left.”

“Yes Master.”

“Tend to your duties now.”

“I shall, sir.”

“You may go.”

I slip out of the room, hands and body and soul trembling. It takes me full minutes to calm myself down in the hall outside his study. I can’t think properly. I can’t breathe. I hold a hand to my chest and breathe in and out, trying to focus my thinking.

Two hours later, I still can’t


	9. The Servant and the Sorcerer

I scrub toilets. I collect garbage and recycling and organic detritus to compost on the rooftop. I rake the courtyard and prune the cherry tree at its center. I mop the two laundry rooms. I make up the schedule for next week. I complete the shopping list, and then call the driver to take me to market to purchase everything. I draft the five percent raise that Master Strange requested for the staff, and reluctantly put through the ten percent raise for me. I draft a new list of the Codes of Conduct and post them in the communal bathroom / locker room. I clean my bedroom thoroughly and change my own sheets, not wanting the other girls to find anything they shouldn’t. I schedule the plumber to come and fix the leaky pipe that’s causing water damage to a portion of the ceiling. I wipe the insides of the windows, then unfold the tall ladder and tend to the outside as well. I fear heights. This is not pleasant. I do it anyway.

All the while as I work, the rest of the staff works around me. They are subdued after the events of the morning, something they all witnessed and cannot get out of their heads. We don’t speak very much to one another. Lunch time comes and goes. I dispatch Amara to bring Master Strange his meal, Ming to serve Master Wong, and the quiet and unassuming Pasang to bring lunch to Mistress Clea. The boys I set to raking and cleaning and trimming the foliage outside the Sanctum. There is a buzz of activity.

It does not distract me enough.

Afternoon turns to evening, and the dinner hour is fast approaching. I am in my chambers, popping a blister on my right foot with the tip of a pen knife, when the silver bell rings. With a sigh, I tug on my stockings and slippers again and exit the room, headed for the stairs. I arrive at the master bedroom moments later, tapping on the door and then entering.

“You rang, Mistress?”

“Holly, excellent. I need you to pack a bag for me. Four outfits, nothing too fancy or eye catching. Enough for approximately three nights and four days away. Pack it in tight, I wish to bring no more than one bag.”

She is seated at the chess table, and Master Strange is across from her. He does not look at me, and I try not to look at him.

“You’ve left your queen unguarded, my dear.”

“Come for her, and see what happens to your rook, my love.”

They haven’t played chess together in ages. Does this indicate a melting in the ice that has frozen their relationship? I go to the wardrobe to pull down Clea’s valise and open it on the bed, then return to look through her clothing.

They are softly laughing together. I wonder if it is genuine, if he is truly happy in her presence. How could he be, when just a few hours before he held me on his lap and poured out his heart to me? Can it be that he is duplicitous? Playing at romance simply to pass the time while his wife is away? That is not the Master Strange I know. That is not the man that I love. But what would I know of love.

“Holly darling, come over here a moment.”

Obediently, I lay aside a silver dress and go to Clea, waiting by her chair. She turns to look up at me, her violet eyes shimmering. She is so beautiful that she makes the rest of the room and both Master Strange and I look plain in comparison.

“While I’m gone, I want you to redecorate a little. This bedroom could use more purple in it. Perhaps a new bedspread and a few tapestries. Will you see to it?”

I glance at Master Strange, and he nods almost imperceptibly. I clear my throat.

“As you wish, Mistress. I’ll see to it personally. Is there anything else I can do to bring you joy upon your return?”

Clea laughs, a tinkling sound, and reaches out to stroke her husband’s cheek.

“Make sure this dashing fellow behaves himself! I won’t be gone too terribly long. Entertain him if he’s bored. Play chess or read or whatever it is you’re good at.”

I can’t meet his eyes, and he doesn’t look up at me either. He’s not some dog that needs to be walked, and he isn’t a child who needs ‘entertaining’. I bristle at her attitude and her words, but I don’t let the annoyance show.

“As you wish, Mistress.”

“Very good. When you’ve finished packing the bag, have dinner brought up. You can leave it outside the door. Knock once. I’ll be busy bidding my lover farewell for a few days.”

I want to shove her out of her chair. I want to turn and dump his mug of tea into his lap, and demand to know why he’ll be physically engaged with her when he’s interested in me. Is this a game? I want to throw a tantrum, and I do not. I smile at Clea, and I finish packing her bag.

When I reach the kitchen, only Ming and Wong are there. Chatting happily, Wong at the table and Ming at the counter. Just sharing the warmth of the moment. 

I walk to the liquor cabinet and pull down the gin, opening it and pouring a hefty measure into a clean glass. I down it, then pour a bit more. Wong, alarmed, comes and takes the bottle from my hands.

“You gonna turn into an alcoholic, keep this up. Still having a bad day? Is Clea being mean to you?”

I finish off my second shot before Wong can take it. He snatches my glass and hands both it and the bottle to Ming, taking my hands in his when she collects them.

“Talk.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. We’re your friends.”

“No, really. I can’t.”

Wong tugs on my hands, leading me to a seat at the kitchen table. He sits across from me, and it amuses me to see that his maroon robes wear a light dusting of flour.

“Master Wong, have you been baking?”

“Little bit. Ming, she wanted to make some bread. So I help. Got a little on me.” He happily pats his chest, sending up a modest cloud of flour. I laugh and shake my head.

“How are you so precious, Master Wong? Everything you do is wonderful.”

“You gonna tell me what’s making you sling back gin like my grandmother?”

I sigh, looking toward the door. Then at Ming, who has her back to us while she kneads dough. This might be going too far, but there is no one who knows Master Strange better than the man before me. I look at the tabletop, drawing patterns in the flour dust with my fingertip.

“Could you make love to someone if you weren’t in love with them anymore?”

Wong sighs, folding his hands.

“Ok I changed my mind. Ming, bring the gin over again. She gonna need more. Holly, let’s talk plainly. But first…”

The sorcerer lifts his hand, casting a ward at both entrances to the kitchen, insuring that we will be left alone for this conversation. I accept the glass of gin mixed with tonic water and a little lime. Ming puts a hand on my shoulder kindly, but she doesn’t interject. Instinctively, she knows that this is something Wong needs to handle.

I take a sip of the drink, feeling the buzzing lightheadedness of the first two shots I poured finally hitting me. Some of my pain and annoyance melt away. Wong pours himself some alcohol as well, and takes a sip.

“Ok Ming, one more favor. Make dinner for Stephen and Clea. Bring to their room.”

“Have her knock once and leave it outside the door.”

“Do that, ok? You can get through the wards. No one else.”

“I’ll do it now. Dinner’s ready, anyway. There’s plenty for you two as well.” She kisses his cheek and returns to the stove to begin plating the meals, setting them on a silver tray. Covering first one and then the other with silver domes the keep the heat in. Wong waits, silently sipping at his drink. I sip at mine.

When Ming is finished, she picks up the tray and walks to the door. It is covered by a glowing orange barrier, but she hesitantly puts out a hand and is able to pass right through it, just as he told her. She takes the tray with her, and leaves.

Wong waits for a moment, then he begins to speak.

“They been married for a little while now. He does love Clea, although things are sour these days. She’s not exactly the perfect woman for my friend, not considering his preferences. But he loves her. They fight for each other’s life, after all. Many times. That kind of thing bonds people together. And Holly, she is beautiful. You need to know how much that makes a man weak. Now you are beautiful too, I mean that. Always thought so. But Clea is practically a goddess. Stephen’s a man. He’s just a man, subject to a man’s needs and a man’s weaknesses.”

“Oh.” Miserably, I look down at the tabletop, swirling the glass around. Wong touches my wrist.

“This is a dangerous situation, Holly. I don’t know what’s happened already. Not my business. But you and Stephen are getting closer, aren’t you.”

After a long, nervous pause, I nod. Just once. Wong nods too.

“Been expecting this. Ok look, I’m just going to lay this out, then never say it again. Ok?”

Again, I nod.

“That man loves you. He loves you, Holly. He’s told me so. Long time ago, and also two days ago. But he’s in a bad position. Still married, still with Clea. If he doesn’t keep performing his husbandly duties, she’s gonna know something is up. And it won’t take her long to connect the dots and follow that line right to you.”

“But he could protect me if he cared to!”

Wong rolls his eyes and reaches forward across the table to touch the neckline of my dress. I draw back slightly, but he gives me a look.

“Please. Not trying to cop a feel. Pull out your necklace.”

Not understanding what this has to do with anything, I do so. The Buddha medallion gleams in the overhead light. Wong touches it, and casts a revelatory incantation. The medallion immediately glows bright golden yellow, a shimmering field of light that encases my entire body. I gasp.

“Yeah, exactly. He IS protecting you.”

“But she slapped my face just this morning!”

“Did she cast? Was your life threatened?”

“Well….no.”

“Good. It would activate if those two things happened. Stephen is the best of us. He is the most powerful Sorcerer Supreme we have ever had. You wear an artifact around your neck that he enchanted just for you, to protect the girl he loves from the wife he loves. Is he gonna make love to Clea today? Probably. She expects it. A man’s body can perform admirably even with women we downright loathe, long as they’re attractive to us. So I heard, I mean. Never been with a woman, personally. Don’t tell Ming. But Stephen has been with women before. He knows how to keep the ruse going, how to make his wife think everything is fine until he can figure out what to do. Trust your Master. Trust him to be working on this problem at all times, thinking about ways out. When he wants something…he gets it. If he wants you? Just be patient. He will make you his. But you gotta let him do it in his time. And yes, he’ll continue to be intimate with Clea until he finds the solution. Not as easy as just getting a divorce, you know. He’s hand trained her, Holly. She’s a powerhouse now. This has to be handled VERY carefully.”

I am dumbstruck by the yellow light, even now fading to invisibility again. He was protecting me! Even before we made our feelings known, he saw to it that I would be safe! I feel tears come to my eyes, and I carefully tuck the medallion back under my clothing.

“Do you….think he hates it? Having to be intimate with her right now?”

“Ha! Oh hell no. I don’t like her much either, but I’d be happy to take her away for a weekend and thoroughly disappoint her!” Wong laughs, patting his belly. I smile, putting my head down, and rub my temple with my fingertips.

“Things are so tangled up now.”

“Know what the proof is?”

“What. Give me some sort of hope.”

Wong leans forward, lowering his voice.

“He knows she’s leaving for a couple days. So I ask him, hey. You want me to make a call? He never calls for his own escorts. I do that. Every time.”

“I guessed as much.”

“He said no. He told me ‘No more of that, I think. Thank you anyway.’ You get that, Holly? No more escorts. No more friends coming by at night. No more outside women. He’s found something worth keeping. And you haven’t even slept with him, have you.”

“N-no sir.”

“Didn’t think so.” Wong sits back, satisfied. “You are important to him. You. His servant. His friend. Just you. Don’t be too hard on him. Let him handle this how it needs to be handled. His body does one thing, his mind is a million miles away. He’s looking forward to tonight. Said so when we spoke. Even though he won’t get exactly what he needs? Is enough to be in the same room with you. You’re a good girl, Holly. Keep doing what you’re doing. And sober up a little. Have something to eat. I secretly ordered a pizza earlier, is in the fridge.”

“Wong…”

“Do what you have been doing. It’s worked so far. After dinner? Go to the shower room, clean up all nice and pretty. Then get ready for the gold bell. I keep the halls clear, don’t you worry. Not even Ming will know where you gonna be. And let whatever happens, happen.”

I can’t bear the sudden surge of joy in my chest. I abruptly get up from my chair and come around the table, throwing my arms around Wong’s neck and hugging him tightly. He rubs my back, chuckling.

Ming eases through the barrier again, and she tilts her head when she sees us embracing. Wong gives a false gasp of shock.

“Oh NO! She caught us. Women can’t resist the Wong, Ming. It’s not her fault. She just lost her mind. I’m too sexy.”

“You are so full of it. Both of you.” Ming laughs, and goes to the counter to continue kneading the bread dough. “They’re still playing chess in there. I heard Stephen tell her to try again, there would be time for maybe two more games before she had to leave.”

I look down at Wong, trying to hide the smile on my lips with one hand. He winks at me and pats my side.

“Or he could be a clever man, and keep her playing chess. Told you. You gotta trust your Master.”

Ming brings over three plates of food and sets them on the table. Wong looks stricken.

“But I got a junk food in the refrigerator!”

“You’re getting fat, my love. No junk food for you! Eat your vegetables.”

“You’re a disobedient and pushy servant.” He grumbles, picking up his fork. I can’t possibly eat, I’m too excited.

I kiss Wong’s cheek one more time, then kiss Ming’s cheek too.

“I can’t stay for dinner, I need to get cleaned up. I’m…..going out this evening. For a walk. To get some exercise. On my walk.”

Ming grins, taking a seat.

“Do the robe thing.”

“Shut up.”

I all but run back to my room, and just as he’d promised there is a simple white dress hanging on my closet door. I touch the full cotton and lace skirt, amazed at its beauty. This is precisely something I would have worn at home, in the days before coming here. He really knows me.

Gathering my bathing items, I let myself out of my bedroom and go to the showers. The two boys are in there, splashing each other over the partition between their shower stalls, laughing. I step into the farthest one from them and close the curtain. And I take a long, hot shower. Washing my hair twice. When I get out, I dry off completely and put on a clean work dress just for form’s sake. Then I blow-dry my hair for a change, and leave it long and silky. Some of the girls here wear cosmetics. I shyly help myself to a little eye makeup, lipstick, face powder and blush. I need to look perfect tonight. The most important person in the universe will be seeing me. We will have all night to talk, uninterrupted.

He can read minds. But Wong has just handed me all the information I needed to fully realize the seriousness of Master Strange’s thought process. I look down at the medallion around my neck, touching it lightly with my fingertips.

You don’t protect things that mean little to you. Protection is for treasure.

The staff stay out of the foyer as Clea leaves. She seems to be in a halfway decent mood, and at the base of the stairs she pauses long enough to kiss her husband goodbye. I stand to one side, my head down, holding her bag in my hands. Her eyes open as she’s kissing him, and when she pulls back and presses her cheek to his she looks directly at me, stroking his hair. There are literal volumes in that look. I lower my head, gripping the valise a little tighter. Shifting my weight. Master Strange steps back and takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. The gesture seems more friendly than romantic.

“Be safe, my dear. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Keep the home fires burning for me, darling.” She smiles, tracing his jawline with one long fingernail. Am I imagining it? Or does he lean back ever so slightly? I hold my breath as he slips on his Sling Ring and opens a portal to his wife’s home world. The shimmering circle reveals psychedelic colors and floating lights, a distant world that I have never been to. Clea reaches out for her suitcase, snapping her fingers. I obediently put it into her hand and bow to her.

“I’ll have the master bedroom redecorated before your return, Mistress.”

“Holly, are you wearing makeup?” She laughs, turning to step through the portal. I lift a hand to my cheek and nervously clear my throat.

“She has a date this evening.” My Master says smoothly. “A young man from town.”

  
Thank goodness he has the presence of mind to lie for me. I shouldn’t have been so eager, I should have waited until she left to pretty up a bit.

“Oh how SWEET! That’s just adorable. A girl your age should have dates. Just don’t tell him what you do for a living. It might put the poor boy off.”

A few seconds later, still laughing, she’s stepped through the portal and it closes behind her. There is silence.

I keep staring straight ahead, studying the tapestry on one of the walls, until finally Master Strange sighs.

“I don’t blame you for being upset. Exactly how much trouble am I in?”

“None at all, sir. What you do with your wife is not my business.”

“We just played chess.”

I turn to look up at him, and my eyes are gentle.

“I know. But you don’t owe me any explanations. I am your servant, sir. Not your…..not your mistress.”

He looks at me for a long time. Ages, it seems, and then he straightens slightly.

“Gather what I told you to bring. Wear the dress under your work attire. Come up the side staircase, and enter the master bedroom without knocking. Tonight isn’t about me, or my desires. It’s about you.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. Now please do as I’ve instructed. I’d hate to have to tell you a second time.”

I bite my lip, a blush rising to my cheeks. Feeling excitement and love and happiness rise in my chest.

“Yes sir. I…I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

In my bedroom, I change into the white dress. It fits my body perfectly, as I knew it must. He saw to that, of course. Looking in the narrow mirror on my door, I twirl around to study myself from all angles. Curves that I have never shown off are visible with this garment. My long hair, I pin loosely up with a single hair stick. If he wishes it down, he will only have to remove one implement.

Am I wicked and awful for enjoying this? Am I bad? He is the center of my life. The only man I have ever loved. I look at myself for a few minutes in the mirror, taking deep breaths.

No impropriety, unless I wish it. No making love…that is not something he would demand of me. Nothing untoward. Just a…a night. A night spent in one another’s company, yes. Simple and clean. The sort of things friends do. Friends.

But as I step into my slippers and slide my work dress on over my clothing to hide it, I know better. Some line has been crossed. He knows that I would do anything for him, that I will submit to him in all things. He has given me bright new words to consider. Dominant. Submissive. Obey. Punish. Climax.

I’m frightened, and excited, and my heart is pounding in my chest when I finally leave my bedroom and make for the side staircase. The halls are, as Wong promised, empty. My feet know the way up the steps, down the dimly lit hall, and to the master bedroom. It feels strange to be here late at night without a tray or a bottle in my hands. No servile reason to be here. Clea is gone. Her husband, my Master, is on the other side of that door. I don’t even know what to expect. But I’m going to go in anyway. Master Strange told me to be here. In all my years of serving him, I have never once disobeyed him.

He told me to enter without knocking. I can't. It's reflex at this point. I raise my hand and tap lightly on the door.

There’s no response. No ‘Enter’ emanates from within. But after a moment, the heavy wooden door is opened. The tall Sorcerer Supreme, still in his heavy blue tunic and robes, Levi hanging from his shoulders, is looking down at me with soft approval in his glacial eyes.

“You came.”

“Yes Master.”

“Even knowing that you face unearned punishment tonight, simply because I wish it.”

“Y-yes Master.”

“Even though you’re frightened of me.”

I bite my lip, lowering my head because I can’t bear to admit that he’s right. I am afraid of him at the moment. I’m afraid of myself, too. And Clea. I’m just afraid.

“Come in, Holly.” He steps aside, widening the door for me, and I slip in under his arm. The room is warm and fragrant with incense. Candles and oil lamps lit here and there. The high vaulted ceiling lost in shadows and the balcony door opened to let in the night air. I hug myself as he locks the door behind us and moves to stand behind me. I don’t turn around. 

“You may take off the work dress now, Holly. I’d like to see you in the gown I gave you.”

I don’t hesitate in following his order. Tugging off the shapeless white linen dress and folding it neatly before placing it on the chair by the door. I smooth down my hair, and slowly turn around to look up at him.

He is the most handsome man I have ever seen. Dark hair, silver at the temples. Eyes of no discernable color, they shift. He told me once that the condition was known as sectoral heterochromia, and that it was a rare condition that did not affect his vision. It simply meant that his eyes were both blue and green at the same time. I look into those eyes now, then down the length of his straight, proud nose to the full lips and perfectly shaved goatee. Levi moves restlessly about his shoulders, always ready to fight for his life or lift him from the ground on a whim. The red of the upturned collar is a glorious contrast against his pale skin and the dark blue of the linen tunic and robe he wears beneath the Cloak. I reach out with trembling fingers to touch the heavy brown leather belt with its intricate braids and rings. His Sling Ring is attached to the belt within easy reach, and I run my fingertips over its cold surface. A sorcerer stands before me, not a common man. He is someone who has seen things that would terrify me to death. Someone who has defeated foes, taken grievous damage from them, yet emerged victorious. A sorcerer who once held the power of Time itself in his hands. Who still holds power greater than anyone else in the world.

I am humbled. Awed. Frightened, yes. And I do the only thing I can think of to do. I go to my knees and bow my head.

“I’m ready to serve you in any way that you see fit, Master. I am yours to command.”

He says nothing for a few seconds, though I can feel him looking at me. Then…

“I will never abuse this power. You’re safe with me. Always. No matter what happens, you will have that safety.”

“I believe you, sir. Master Wong told me about the medallion. You enchanted it.”

“I did. And do you know why?”

“To…protect me from Mistress Clea, sir.”

There is the rustle of fabric as he kneels down with me, touching my cheek. I raise my eyes.

“My marriage is dying, Holly. I am letting it die. I made that decision two days ago, because of something you said.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. You said that no one who loves me would ever knowingly hurt me. It came to me then, all the little things that Clea has done to hurt me over the years. The deliberate baiting. The physical attacks. The disrespect. The poor treatment of my staff. The verbal abuse of Wong. Her cruelty towards my friends. Her icy demeanor at times. Her withholding of physical affection. These are all indicators of a lack of genuine love. I gave up trying to win her back on that day. She will leave me soon, I think. If she does not, preferring to stay and torment me, then I will ask her to leave. I am tired of being lonely. I am tired of strangers in my bed simply to fill a void. I am tired of not having a partner. Most of all, I am tired of loving with all my heart, and having that love spurned.”

His words break my heart. I reach up with both hands and put my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He gently strokes my back, kissing the side of my head.

“You deserve to be fully and completely loved, Master. May the next woman you choose be worthy of you. I will serve her with all my heart, just as I serve you. Just as I have served your wife. I promise, I will never let my own personal feelings get in the way of my devotion to you and all those you love.”

“Holly, you are so beautifully naïve at times.”

“Master?”

He sighs, standing up. Pulling me with him to my feet, and gently he guides me to a chair by the fire. I sit, and I am stunned when he kneels at my feet and removes my slippers. Then, tenderly, he slides over a metal basin of water that had been warming by the fire. He eases my feet, aching from a day of work, into the basin and begins to rub them underwater. I am shamed and moved by this. I should be washing his feet. I should be on my knees. Not him.

“Please….please don’t.”

“Is the water too hot?”

“No Master. It’s just…I shouldn’t be…”

“Hush. You need to understand, Holly. I am your Master, yes. I am in control. You will obey me in all things, more than ever before going ahead from this night. But you need to know that my heart will serve you just as your body and mind will serve me.”

Tears fill my eyes. He lovingly washes my feet, then lifts them from the basin and dries them on a warm towel laid out nearby. He was clearly ready for this. Had planned it. I am weeping as I slip down to the floor to take his face in my hands and kiss him. Clumsily, because I still don’t know how and this is only my second kiss ever. But he chuckles and holds me still, tilting my head slightly and showing me how to do it right. We sit on the floor by the fireplace, just kissing. Just experiencing this sweet bliss together, until finally he breaks away and cuddles me against his chest.

“Easy, little one. Easy. We have all night.”

“Yes Master. Forgive my exuberance.”

“Come.” He stands, and taking me by the hand he leads me to the balcony. The glass doors with their latticework of metal are open to the night air, and the ivy growing all around the entrance is rustling in the sweet wind pushed ahead of an approaching rain shower. There is a small table set out, and two chairs. A bottle of wine with a very old, very recognizable label sits chilling in a silver bucket. Two glasses on a crisp white napkin beside it. He picks up the bottle and glances at it, and the cork works itself free and glides neatly out to float down to the table.

“Is that…”

“The 1959 Château d'Yquem. Yes.”

I blink, stunned. He winks at me as he pours some of the golden Sauterne into one of the crystal glasses and holds it out.

“I also have grape soda, if you prefer.”

“But sir! You said during my tour of the wine cellar on my second day here that if I broke this very bottle, you would not only kill me….but I might also be fired!”

Master Strange laughs, lifting my hand and wrapping my fingers around the stem of the glass.

“Surely you didn’t think I would ever do either.”

“I didn’t know!”

He pours some for himself, smiling with amusement.

“I can think of no one I would rather drink it with. To new beginnings.”

I touch my glass to his, and there a soft clear note resonates. Like a singing bowl.

“New beginnings, Master.”

We drink, and it is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. My eyes move to his lips, soft and perfect.

Perhaps the wine is the second most delicious thing…

“You look beautiful, Holly. A perfect vision of innocence, grace, submission and youth.”

“Thank you sir. I’ve never owned a dress as fine as this one. You are spoiling me.”

“I intend to do so for the rest of your life. If not the rest of mine.”

“You will outlive me by thousands of years, sir. I only hope to be remembered with fondness.”

He gives me a long look with those piercing eyes. The sort of expression that I have seen on his face when he is deeply engrossed in some arcane tome or other. One of concentration, thoughtfulness and interest. I feel for a moment like I am a puzzle the great sorcerer is slowly working out.

“We shall see. Not about being remembered fondly. Of course that will be true. But we’ll see about the length of your life, Holly. I can’t find the perfect woman merely to lose her again a scant eighty years into our romance.”

“You’re teasing me again. It’s frightful to make fun of a young girl’s feelings.” But I smile as I take another sip of the wine. His compliments and gentle playfulness go right to my heart.

In answer, he turns to look at the creeping ivy all around us. With deliberation, he lifts one scarred hand and beckons to it. As if in answer to an unspoken command, the trailing plants pull free from the bricks and begin to come together. Weaving around one another languidly, like seaweed moving under a high tide in the moonlight. I watch, wide-eyed, as they form a leafy canopy over our heads, enclosing the entire balcony and protecting us from prying eyes, from the coming rain, from the throbbing stars that peek fitfully through the ragged clouds. There is almost perfect darkness save for the small amount of light coming from the bedroom behind us. And then, winking into existence one by one, tiny glowing orbs blossom from the ivy vines. I turn in slow circles, trying to look at everything all at once. I have seen him perform countless spells. Some beautiful, some terrifying, some lethal and some healing. But I have never seen anything like this before. Wonder fills my eyes, a wild joy suffuses my soul, and I feel as though I have tripped and fallen into a dream. One never truly loses a love for faerie tales. Now it seems I am in one.

Soft, hypnotic music begins to play. Coming from nowhere and everywhere, ambient and perfectly suited to the atmosphere he has created. I turn to face him as he comes closer, the hundred shimmering lights reflected in his eyes. He is in all ways regal, as regal as some ancient king who stepped out of a story I’d once loved but forgotten. Gently, he takes my glass from me and sets both aside on the table.

“Dance with me.”

“Of course.” I say, somewhat breathlessly.

I am plain. I am not brilliant. I have no magic. I am not a goddess, or a princess, or a sorceress. I am nothing but a servant with rough hands and calloused feet, unremarkable in every way. But the moment his left hand is on the small of my back, his right lifting mine to guide our steps, I forget all of these things. We move together with a grace I do not possess on my own, but somehow am able to find when I follow his lead. I have only to trust him. His body is strong, my hand on his shoulder can feel the warmth and solidity of the flesh beneath his robes. My other hand rests on his waist, and as we dance and he pulls me closer I press my palm to his back. I can faintly feel his heartbeat against my cheek as I close my eyes and rest it on his chest. This is perfect bliss, soul-stirring and deeply intimate. I push every other intrusive thought away. Damn the coming of morning and the ending of the dream, and damn impropriety and damn his wife and damn the escorts and damn my fears. All that matters is this. This wholesome and holy Now, and his arms around me.

We dance for an unknown amount of time, moving slowly around the leafy enclosure, and at last he draws back and touches my cheek. I look up at him, opening my eyes, but they slide closed a moment later when his lips find mine. Several lingering kisses later, the music fades into silence, and he steps back from me. Holding my hands in his.

“You dance beautifully, sir.”

“Thank you. I took ballet to meet girls when I was in high school.”

I giggle, picturing him in a leotard.

“Did it work?”

“Like a charm. The football players were all mystified at how a boy who never even tried out for the team was able to whisk away the best looking girls in school right under their noses. I was never at a loss for female company.”

“Well, I think you’re even more charming now. Wizards are the new ballet dancers.”

“Mmmmm, let’s not spread that around. Come sit with me by the fire. We can finish our wine there before your massage.”

“My what? I think you mean _your_ massage.”

“No, I mean yours. I told you…tonight is about you. Not me.”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll spoil a perfectly good servant?”

“I’m very much hoping to.”

He puts the wine glass back in my hand and refills it, and carrying the bottle he leads me back inside. We make ourselves comfortable in the two chairs before the ornate fireplace. The basin and towel have vanished, replaced with a thick rug that our feet sink into. I sigh, basking in the delicious warmth, and take another sip of wine. Master Strange settles into the chair beside me, staring into the flames. I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

Perhaps it’s the wine that makes me bold. Or the gin from earlier. Or something else from some hidden place within me.

“When are you going to discipline me? Before or after the massage?”

“When you ask me to.”

“Be serious. Who asks for punishment?”

He looks at me, the firelight making his eyes look more green than blue now. And there is such passionate heat in his gaze that my breath catches. This must be the look he gives the escorts in the moment before he takes them over his knee and lifts their skirts, slides their panties down…

I can’t help what I blurt out. It just happens.

“I want to watch you.”

“Explain.” But he looks like he already knows. I blush deeply and turn back to the fire, saying nothing, draining my wineglass. Without pause, he refills it.

“Oh this is hardly fair…”

“If it loosens your tongue, then I’ll grapple with the unfairness of it. What do you want to watch me do, Holly?”

“N-nothing. Sir. I don’t know what I was saying.”

“I’ll let it pass for now. But before the night is over, you will tell me.”

There’s no way to reply to that. Against my better judgment, I take another sip of the wine and content myself with simply being in his presence.

“Are you hungry?”

“I….I suppose I am. I skipped dinner.”

“I thought as much. Which is why I took the liberty of procuring your absolute most favorite food in the whole world.”

“You can’t mean…”

“I can and I do.” With a flourish, he reaches beneath his chair and pulls out a paper sack from the local convenience store. I burst out laughing as he opens it and produces two packets of Hostess Twinkies. Now I really can’t stop. I cover my face with both hands, unable to hide my delight.

“A four thousand dollar bottle of wine to go with a dollar twenty-five snack? Master….”

“Call me Stephen tonight. Please.” He rips open the cellophane with his teeth and hands me a pair of spongy yellow cakes. I can’t. He is beyond precious, beyond wonderful. Ripping off a chunk, I hold it out for him to take.

“Don’t bite my fingers, sir. I need them to scrub the foyer with tomorrow.”

Delicately, as though accepting a ripe grape from the hand of a Muse, he accepts the morsel.

“Your days of scrubbing foyers are numbered, Pet.”

I take a bite as well, lowering my eyes.

“Did…did you just call me Pet?”

“I did. And you didn’t call me Stephen.”

I swallow, taking another sip of the ridiculously overpriced wine in my glass to wash down the Twinkie. It’s going right to my head, and I feel slightly euphoric and happy. But then, I always feel this way with him. I lean forward a little over the arm of the chair.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to punish me for it. But I’m not going to ask. That would be unseemly.”

“You will. Soon.”

“You’re very confident.”

“I know you, Holly. Better than you know yourself.”

And he is right. I realize this as I quietly nibble at the snack, watching him suck a smear of cream filling from his thumb. I want his hands on me. I want to feel everything that he wishes to show me. I want him to kiss me, hold me, touch me, strike me…even make love to me. Should that impossible possibility ever come to pass.

We talk about work. We talk about books. We discuss chess, music, art, poetry. He tells me stories of his days in medical school. I tell him a little about my childhood, and my training. We both extoll the beauty of Clea, the sweetness of Amara, and laugh about the boldness of Ming. We talk about how much we both love Wong, and how wonderful he is and always has been. We talk until the Moon sets, and the candles are burned low, and the night begins to slowly bleed into the wee hours of the morning.

But at last, our tongues are tired. The wine is drunk. I can’t stop looking at him. He stands, moving to the dresser to get out his pajamas for the night, and when Levi flies to the cloak rack and he is shedding his robes, I find myself getting to my feet.

He pauses, standing there in his blue linen trousers and nothing else, and regards me as I approach him. I lay a hand on his arm, reaching for the pajamas in his hand.

“Sleep without them tonight? I would love for you to massage me, sir. I mean…I mean Stephen. Then I will massage you, with your permission.”

“You have it.”

“But before that happens, I think I’m ready.”

He touches my cheek, looking down at me with eyes that have seen galaxies.

“Are you, Holly?”

“Yes Master.”

“Then say it.”

I take a deep breath. And then I reach behind me, and unzip the white dress.

“I’m ready to be disciplined.” 


	10. Discipline and Pleasure

I slide the dress over my shoulders and down my body, and my eyes are large and glistening a little too much with the tears of anticipation and nervousness that form in them. He watches me as I step out of the dress and lay it aside over the quilt rack. In my white bra and white panties, I stand before him with my hands clasped in front of me, fully aware that I lack the curves and generous breasts and trim waist of his wife. I am plain. I have always been plain. But he looks at me as though I was a work of art.

“Come to the bed, Holly.” He tells me, and I obey. He pauses at the low bench situated at the end of the enormous four-poster, opening the top and lifting out a few folded sweaters. Beneath them is a roll of black velvet cloth, which he withdraws and lays on the bed. I stand nearby, clasping my hands in front of me. My head down but my eyes on what he is doing. He puts the sweaters back and closes the lid, and then comes to stand behind me.

“Open the rolled cloth.”

With trembling fingers, I do. Inside, neatly lined up, is an array of instruments that fill me with fear…and fascination. A short handled whip with nine braided tails. A sturdy leather paddle, studded, with holes in it to reduce air cushioning. A riding crop. And a wicked-looking single tailed flogger with the handle wrapped in dark red leather. Every one of these devices look as though they would hurt a great deal. I turn to look up at him, lips slightly parted, my breath coming a little faster.

“Is it too late to back out?”

“Never. Just as you do nothing without my permission, I will do nothing without yours.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, Pet. This is your first time. It’s natural to be frightened.”

“Were the girls you’ve used these on frightened? Was Lisa frightened?”

“Who?”

“The tall pretty one with the red lips and the long dark hair. Blue eyes. You seem to favor her.”

“Ah yes. I do favor her. It’s interesting that you know her name, when I make it a point never to learn them.”

“Lisa is studying to be a marine biologist, sir. She works as an escort to pay for college. She loves jewel tones, hummingbirds, watching the sun rise, and key lime pie. She called you a lovely man, and a generous lover, and said that you are extremely handsome. And she has a pet octopus named Hank that lives in a saltwater aquarium in her bedroom on campus.”

He takes this all in with his usual way of listening, memorizing the details effortlessly.

“A marine biologist, you say? Well, she’ll do very well I would imagine. She seems quite bright. Yes, Holly. She was nervous the first time. But she is very good at her profession, and willing to try new things. We also have a safe word, and she has used it a few times.”

I look back at the paddle, the whips, the crop.

“Which one will you use on me tonight?”

“I want you to select one. Which would you prefer?”

He stands back, folding his arms across his bare chest, and in the lamplight with his tousled dark hair and his perfect torso on display, he looks like a god. Apollo, come to visit some mortal woman to impregnate her with a demigod and cast the world into chaos for the sake of an epic poem and a few painted urns. I turn around and study the implements, picking up each one to inspect it. What am I looking for? Blood? Evidence of which might be the most brutal? I don’t know. They all frighten me. But finally, I pick up the paddle and turn back to him with it in my hands.

“How hard will you hit me?”

“Only as much as you can bear. Perhaps a tiny bit more.”

“How many times?”

“There will be ten blows. I will count them aloud for you. If at any point you wish me to stop, I will.”

“Will I bleed?”

“I will not hit you that hard, Holly. You are precious to me, and this is not a punishment designed to disfigure you. This is for pleasure, both yours and mine.”

“I trust you, Master. I’m sorry for my childish nervousness. Please forgive me.”

He takes the paddle from my hands and taps it against his palm, the light snapping sound making me wince.

“I want you to lower your panties to your knees now, Holly, and bend over the bed. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes Master.” I can feel the color drain from my face. But I force myself to move, to turn away from him and move to the bed again. I have changed these sheets and comforter a thousand times. Plumped these pillows. Sprayed lavender essential oil on the mattress to promote deep and restful sleep. But I have never been in this bed. Tonight, I will sleep here. But first there will be this. I wonder how bad the pain will be, and if I will cry out. Feeling both shame and a tingle of arousal, I hook my thumbs through the waistband of my sensible, sturdy cotton panties and ease them down to my knees. Exposing my backside to his gaze. I bend over the bed as he instructed, bracing my hands on the soft blanket and squeezing my eyes shut. For a few moments, there is only the sound of our breathing.

Then, softly, I feel him touch my naked backside with his fingertips. Lightly caressing me, making my back arch and my pulse race. His palm is warm against my skin. I bite my lip as the tenderness of his flesh is replaced by the cool touch of the paddle. Gently, he rubs my left cheek with the device. His voice is low and sensual.

“I am going to spank you ten times with the paddle, Holly. Only ten, and I will not break the skin. When I am finished, I want you to thank me, and then fall to your knees at my feet. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master Strange.”

“To whom do you belong?”

“To you, sir.”

“Will you obey my every command? Give of yourself completely and hold nothing back? Maintain my secrets, defend me in my absence, be respectful in all things? Will you submit, fully and without demand, to my wishes? Will you be faithful to me, and let no other man touch you?”

Trembling, I look back over my shoulder at him. He stands at the ready, the paddle in his right hand, his left on the small of the back to hold me still.

“Master….I already do all of those things. I will continue to do them for the rest of my life. I am and always will be yours. Only yours.”

He smiles, and leans down to kiss my temple. I close my eyes and revel in the contact.

“I know, Pet. You are perfect.”

And then he strikes me.

The pain is a bright explosion of yellows and reds behind my closed eyelids, a stinging that radiates out from the point of impact to bring sensation to every part of my body. I cry out in surprise at the intensity of the sensation, gasping back tears. His left hand moves from my back to the place he just hit me, rubbing my skin. Soothing away the worst of the hurt. I grip the bedclothes and steady myself. He is holding back very little. The blow was powerful, the loud *CRACK* a shock to the senses.

“One.”

My head lowers, and I moan. But I say nothing. Certainly not the safe word.

Another *CRACK*, and this time I am able to keep from crying out. The pain sings along my nerve endings, my flesh absorbs the blow and does not yield.

“Two.”

He hits me again and again, and it feels as though my body is on fire. My knees are weak and shaking, hardly able to hold up my weight. There is a not-unpleasant warmth growing in the place between my thighs that is now exposed to the air. Exposed to his eyes, if he were to crouch down. Wetness trickles down the inside of my thigh, and for a second I am afraid that it is blood. But it’s not. He hasn’t broken the skin, and I am not at my time.

The spanking is half over when I make a sound again, something between a whimper and a sob. His hand pets my hair, smoothing it and moving down to rub my stinging backside again. I can’t bear this. It’s too much. I have never been struck this way before, never. But I hold out, and I do not beg him to stop.

He whispers the word ‘Nine’ against my ear after another painful blow. I steel myself, weak to the point of collapsing. This is torture. But my nipples are stiff and aching, my body tense, the dampness between my shaking thighs proof that I am not truly suffering. I am ashamed at my body’s reaction to this correction. Everything in me wants him to continue.

“Harder, Master.” I manage to murmur through gritted teeth. I can feel him pause.

“Very well.”

And then the tenth blow falls. It is more powerful than any that preceded it. My body jolts, and all the strength finally leaves my legs. I sink to the floor, my skin aflame with agony, my body pulsing with pleasure. I am weeping as I collapse at his feet. Barely able to speak.

“Th-thank you…..M-Master.” I whimper, and I am crying harder than I ever have in my life. Sobbing as though my soul had been broken open. He lays aside the paddle and bends down to gather me into his arms and lift me up. I am only dimly aware of being carried to the bathroom, held against his naked chest as he spins the taps with his mind and fills the tub with steaming water. He bears my weight with one arm, easing his trousers off with his other hand. Gently, he stands me up and strips off my panties the rest of the way, and he removes my bra with deft fingers that know how to properly undress a woman. Then we are naked together for the first time, nestled into the hot water, my welts stinging frightfully. I am being cradled in his embrace and rocked as if I were a child having a bad dream.

I can’t stop crying. I bury my face in his neck, and he cups water in his hand and pours it over my shoulder and side, warming me. The tub is deep and broad, large enough to accommodate three people at the least. I am submerged to my upper arms, my chest covered, and he is holding me close and whispering love words against my hair.

“Shhhhhh, it’s alright. It’s over, my Pet. My timid, innocent little mouse. It’s all over with. You never need to endure it again if you do not want to.”

“I love you. I worship you. I would endure anything for you.”

“I love you as well, Holly. You’re alright. You’re safe.”

“Kiss me.”

He does, deeply and thoroughly, and he moves me to straddle his lap in the bath. I can feel the powerful male hardness of his arousal between my thighs, pressing against my most secret place. How easy it would be for him to take me now. But he does not. He rubs my back, kissing me, letting me calm down by degrees until I am clinging desperately to him and kissing him in return with passion and need. Raw need. My entire body is screaming for release. I don’t even know how to endure it, or how to beg him for what I require. It is painful. When his hand dips below the surface of the water to touch my womanhood, I cry out for the third time. Against his lips, the sound drawn into him as he intensifies the passion of this simple act of lips against lips and tongue against tongue. I feel his fingers slide inside me, touching the thin veil of flesh that indicates my virginity. He goes no further when he feels this barrier, but rubs tenderly at the pink pearl of sensitive nerves that seems to ache the most now in the aftermath of such a powerful and draining experience. I stiffen against him, gasping for breath, my hips bucking in time with the slow movements of his thumb.

“Too much….it’s…..please…”

He tilts me down into the water then, his hand beneath my back to keep me from slipping under, and then I am gripping the edges of the tub and he is rising up onto his knees with a great churning of water. My legs are indelicately spread before him. I try to close them, but he puts his other hand to my knee and wrenches them forcefully apart again. That hand moves beneath my throbbing backside to lift my pelvis from the water, and he lowers his head.

Shockwaves ricochet through my system at the first contact of his tongue against my opening. I do not simply moan or whimper. The sound I make is closer to a scream. But I am not afraid of being overheard. I know he will have seen to that. He sees to everything. I did not even know such a thing COULD be done to a woman! My actions are not my own anymore, I thrash in his grip as he torments me with the slow and sensual lapping of his tongue against my starving body. The water spills over the sides of the tub as I struggle, crying out, begging him to stop….not to stop….please God have mercy….Master…..  
  
When the climax hits me it is so powerful that my vision grays over, and I go limp in the water. Unable to move. I could drown, and I would not know it. Tenderly, he lifts me up against him and settles me down to curl against his side. Tears are still coursing down my cheeks even in this state of torpor. He kisses them away and hugs me to him, gently hushing me until what seems like hours have passed. I am quiet, fragile as a newborn, holding tight to him for dear life.

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

He chuckles warmly, kissing the side of my head, and rubs my shoulder with his scarred hand. We are silent together, just soaking in the heat. Relaxing. He has given me the most powerful release of my life….yet he is still tense and wanting. I don’t know what to do, how to touch him, how to please him, but I want to. Badly. Hesitant, I move my hand to his thigh, and then I tentatively touch his hardened length beneath the water. He stops me with his hand, bringing my wrist up to his lips to kiss it.

“Don’t you want me to….to help somehow?”

“You’re not a tool of pleasure, Holly. Just give me a few moments. I can calm my own body down with meditative exercises.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I want to please you, Master. Show me how to please you.”

“Not tonight, little love. I would feel as though I’d used you. It matters. You matter to me. This isn’t some loveless one night stand. You are a treasure, and to be treated as a treasure. Have you soaked enough, do you think? Ready for your massage?”

“Yes Master.”

He rises from the water and steps out, wrapping a towel around his waist to safely hide himself from my sight. Then he is taking my hand as I step shakily out of the tub as well. Lovingly, he pats me down with a towel and then wraps me in his own robe for the walk from the bathroom to the bedroom.

The candles have been refreshed, and there is new incense burning. He misses nothing. It makes me aware of how unnecessary I really am, that he is able to conjure these things without much thought. I move to the bed when he guides me there, and at his urging I climb up and lie down in his usual place. I’m grateful that he didn’t insist I lie where Clea normally does. It would have felt awkward and wrong, and dampened my feelings of love and desire tonight.

“Untie the robe and remove it, my Holly. I want to be able to massage all of you.”

I roll from side to side to obey him, finally laying the robe aside. He produces the familiar dish of oil, warmed over a candle. Just the way I do it.

“You’ve really been paying attention, sir.”

“I have. For eight years. On your tummy, little one. Mmmmm, your bottom is the loveliest shade of red. You took the spanking very well. I am impressed.”

“It hurt. I almost couldn’t bear it. Master.”

“But you did. And you didn’t use the safe word. You deserve a reward.”

“I believe you rewarded me quite well in the bath, sir.”

“That? That was a prelude, Holly. Now lie down and relax. I want to rub your muscles until all the tension of the day is soothed away. I saw how hard you worked. Everywhere I turned, there you were…doing something that no one else wanted to do. Nothing that happens in this Sanctum occurs without my knowledge. You outdid yourself all day.”

I roll onto my stomach, head pillowed on my hands, feeling decadent and lazy as his hands begin to work the warmed oil into my skin. It feels so wonderful, so indescribably good that I release a half-moan, half sigh as I relax fully under his touch. He laughs softly, dipping his fingers into the oil to bring more to my back, and runs his strong hands up and down my spine.

“Now you know how it feels. Has anyone ever massaged you before?”

“No Master.”

“I will do it at least once a week from now on. In your room, I would imagine. Until such time as my wife decides to leave the Sanctum, and this becomes your bedroom.”

“Again you tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you, Holly. I want you to be my lover.”

My eyes open, and I struggle up on my elbows to turn my head, looking at his expression.

He’s serious. I roll onto my side, then sit up. Taking his oily hands in mine and holding them. My tone soft and firm.

“Master Strange, you cannot pledge your life to a servant.”

“And Wong can? You didn’t bat an eye when he and Ming developed a romantic attachment.”

“That’s different. He is not the Sorcerer Supreme.”

He falls silent, looking down at our joined hands. I continue.

“I will be yours in every way, Stephen. I will not take another lover. There will be only you. But you can’t take a low-born servant of the Sanctum to be your wife. Not now, not ever. You know what is expected of you. That Kamar-Taj accepted Clea at all is a miracle. No other Sorcerer Supreme has ever been permitted to have a romantic partner. Your own Ancient One did not. Celibacy is the standard. They made an exception because Clea is a sorceress from another dimension, and she is worthy to call herself your mate. I am not. My job is to wash your sheets, make your meals, dust the study, and kneel at your feet. Not stand at your side. You know this. You know it, but you don’t want to know it.”

“They’ll accept what I tell them to accept. I am the greatest Sorcerer Supreme to date. Don’t my wishes matter?”

“They matter to me. I will lie in your bed every night if you want me there. I will keep all other men away from me for the rest of my life. I will love you, and only you. And you will love me. We can’t ever have a normal relationship, sir. Stephen. The Council would never allow it. But Master, I don’t demand it. I don’t need it. When we are alone together, when your eyes find me as I work…we will know. We will know what we are to one another. In private, you will have your perfect submissive. But in public? I am afraid that you will have to appear to walk alone, if you do not have Clea at your side. As has every Sorcerer Supreme before you.”

He is agitated, even angry. Though he knows my words are correct, they don’t sit well with him. I touch his cheek, and he pulls away.

“Rules can be changed.”

“Not this one.”

“But I love you, Holly. You are everything I have been searching for.”

“And I love you. You are and will always be the only one in my heart. I will serve you forever.”

He grabs me then, pulling me against his chest, and I hug him tightly and do not say anything. It takes him a long time to speak again.

“I want you here every night that Clea is not here. When she leaves, I want you here by ten every night for the rest of your life.”

“Of course. At nine fifty-five, I will be outside that door.”

“I won’t take another wife. I will appear to be celibate and alone.”

“The Council will like as not feel very pleased with your decision, Master.”

“I hate this.”

“I know. But we will have our secret. And they will have their Sorcerer. Do you…..want me to massage you now?”

He sighs deeply, letting the emotions go so as not to ruin our first night together.

“No. No not yet. I’m not done with you, darling. Lie down.”

And I do. Relaxing again, trying to calm my pounding heart. He loves me. This is not a game. He loves me, and a part of him always has. I am special in his eyes. Joy is spiraling through my system despite the constraints that this love will face. I don’t care about them. All that matters is how he feels. How I feel.

His hands are upon me again, rubbing my back, my shoulders, smoothing the oil down to my stinging backside and tenderly soothing the bruised flesh there. Down each leg, rubbing away the soreness in my thighs from climbing stairs and ladders all day. Down to my small damaged feet, where he massages every toe. I giggle when he tickles me, and after a moment he laughs with me. When I roll onto my back at his urging, he pours a little oil onto my belly and rubs it in with a scarred palm. My eyes are on him, his face showing concentration in the candlelight.

“Are you a gentle lover?”

“I told you that we wouldn’t make love tonight.”

“I understand. You’re still married, Master. And I….I’m not ready.”

“There is plenty of time. No need for you to give any part of yourself that you’re not comfortable with giving, Holly. We can wait.”

“I was curious.”

He works the oil into the flesh of my thigh, rubbing the muscles, and does not answer right away.

“The statement you made earlier. I would hear its explanation.”

“I was speaking without thinking, sir.”

“In all the years I have known you, you’ve never done that. You said you wanted to watch me. You just asked what sort of lover I am. These things are connected, aren’t they.”

His shrewd guesses make me feel even more exposed than I am, and I’m already naked. I put a hand on top of his, sitting up. Touching his bare shoulder lightly.

“It’s very embarrassing, having to tell you.”

He sits back on his heels, simply waiting. We are both naked. So why does it feel like he’s still regally dressed and I am lying at his feet? I tuck a few strands of wet hair behind my ear, clearing my throat. Looking down.

“I want to watch you make love, Master. But not with Mistress Clea. She would be merciless to me, and take it out on you if she thought there were any kind of….of tender feelings between us. I want to watch you, and learn how it’s done. I want to learn to please you. I know how inappropriate this is, and how terribly far I’ve gone even asking for such a thing. You can of course tell me no. I wouldn’t be offended. It’s a private matter, intimate. Not something that’s meant to be viewed by an audience. I shouldn’t have even vocalized…”

“Yes, you may.”

I come to a full stop, blinking.

“What?”

“I said you may. You seem to be fond of Lisa. We can call her, and have her come over. Late. She wouldn’t have a problem with an audience of one. Certainly not one so polite. It will happen when you are ready for it to happen. But Holly.”

“Sir?”

He takes my face in his hands, and his expression is gentle and serious.

“That will be the final time I am entertained by an escort. Unless you’re feeling saucy some evening down the road and want to spice things up a bit.” He chuckles at my expression, and leans forward to kiss my brow. “I know the very thought terrifies you. But my answer is yes. Some night when Clea is not here, tell Wong to call for Lisa. He doubtless knows all their names and descriptions. Then let me know what’s about to happen so I can at least put a book mark on the page I’m reading.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Certainly not, little love. This is a very serious thing you’ve mentioned. But I understand your curiosity. There are other ways to see things like that, of course. But they’re impersonal and unrealistic. I do have one question.”

“Ask it. Ask me anything, Master.”

“Wouldn’t it hurt you to see me with someone else?”

Now I really am blushing. I tug on his shoulder, pushing him down onto the bed even though he could fight me if he wished to. He allows me the illusion of having bested him. I straddle his lower back, reaching for the warm oil dish, and I drip a little onto his perfect golden skin.

“No, sir. I know you don’t love them. And they are professionals, after all. Who better to learn from? They know what you like.”

“What I like can change, Holly. If need be.” He runs a hand down my side, touching my hip. “Was the pain too much for you?”

“No Master.”

“How did it make you feel?”

“Fragile and….and vulnerable and scared. But also excited, because you were the one doing it. Honored, definitely. Shocked at the pain but not undone by it. I knew I had the power to stop it at any time. Just say the safe word and you’d cease immediately. That made it possible to bear.”

He sighs as I continue to massage him, seeming pleased at my response.

“Now you understand the need for a safe word. You would be able to bear just about anything if you knew you could stop it the moment it became too much. Do you think you’d ever want to be disciplined again?”

Now there comes a choice. I don’t hesitate, having already made it even during the punishment. I lean down until my lips are close to his ear, and I whisper the words that I know he desires to hear. Words that I mean, because I desire him, and I am eager and possibly wicked and lustful.

“I do, Master. We have three other implements to try, at the very least.”

“You are a test of my self-control, Holly Tremor.”

“Thank you sir. I am very pleased to be. You are a test of mine as well.”

I continue to massage him thoroughly, and when he rolls onto his back I kneel beside him and rub his chest. Trying not to look any lower. I want to look. I want to touch him, see the effect it will have on his breathing and his body and the look in his eyes and even the power in the room. But he stopped me in the bath when I attempted to, and I don’t want to overstep my privilege tonight. I drizzle the oil into my hands and massage his legs, my eyes still down. He holds still, watching me. The candle flames glistening on his chest and shining in his eyes.

The base of my skull tingles, but I’m not quick enough to throw up a mental wall of nonsense to hide my thoughts. I groan.

“Well now, it seems you have a healthy amount of curiosity in your mind.”

“Do you have any idea how unfair it is to use your mystic powers in the bedroom, Master?”

“I’ve never claimed to be fair.” He chuckles, and closes his eyes again. “You need to have patience for the next step, Pet. The last thing I want to do is frighten you. I feel badly that I already have.”

“You’ve behaved honorably, sir. Any fear I felt was my own fault. Overthinking when I should have simply been trusting.”

He sighs, and puts his hand on my shoulder. I stop massaging his leg, looking up at him. His eyes are still closed.

“It’s only fair, after what I did to you last night and in the bath. You may touch me if you wish. But stop when I tell you to stop. I don’t want to lose my head with passion and do something regrettable. Do you understand?”

“Yes, M…”

His eyes open, and he looks directly at me.

“Yes, Stephen. I understand.” I look into those eyes for a few seconds, gathering my courage. And then I drop my gaze to finally look upon the place I have so long avoided gazing at. He is beautiful even here, his proud manhood lying against his abdomen, a soft nest of dark hair surrounding its base. With trembling fingers, I lightly touch him, feeling the member stiffen beneath my touch. I am not quite so naïve that I do not know what this part of him is for, or where it goes. He seems too large to fit inside me. I wonder how much it will hurt. Women enjoy making love though, if everything I’ve heard is accurate. Clea would never submit to something she found unpleasant. The escorts always seem quite happy. Lisa called him generous, a good lover. Maybe this is something I can learn to endure and come to enjoy.

His damaged hand moves to touch the back of mine, and wordlessly he wraps my oil-slicked fingers around his shaft. The moment I move even slightly, his physical reaction is instantaneous. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and his breath catches. So I do the only logical thing. I move again, slowly sliding my hand up and down the length of him, and when he grips the blankets beneath us with both hands I know that I am doing this right. I am pleasing him. What happened in the bathtub comes forcefully back to me. Perhaps……

I bend down, kissing the hot, hard flesh lightly.

“God, Holly. Stop. Stop now.” He groans, and his hands are on my shoulders. Pushing at me to move away.

Disobedience flashes through my mind. Just a little disobedience. I run my tongue up the smooth length of him once, then straighten and remove my hands from his body. Looking as innocent as I can when he sits up and grabs the robe I’d been wearing from its place on the bed beside him, moving it to cover his lap. There is fire in his eyes, and he is the one shaking now. We look at one another.

I gasp when he takes hold of me again, throwing me down on my back, tossing aside the robe again, but I don’t cry out the safe word and put an end to whatever is about to happen. I lie back, accepting his muscular weight on top of me, and when he kisses me I part my lips and wrap my arms around him. My knees hugging his thighs. His member is pressed against me, the dangerous thickness right at the entrance of my body, but he goes no further. We are both shaking, kissing one another desperately. His hands reaching for my upper arms, pulling my hands from his back and then pinning them to the bed. When he leans up, he rests his forehead on mine and takes several deep breaths. The dark fire is rising in me again, inspired by the sensation of almost becoming one. This is not something I ever imagined would happen between us. Never. He is…..he is married…and I….can’t…

“I love you.” I whisper. Master Strange kisses my brow and rolls off me to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to me, tensing his muscles.

“I love you too, Holly. Very much.”

“Have I upset you?”

“No, little love. No. Not at all. I just need a moment to regain mastery of myself. Lie back. Get comfortable. Relax. Just breathe.”

I do as he says, though I want to put a hand on his lower back and try to soothe him somehow. I went too far, maybe. After a few minutes, he gets up and reaches for his pajama bottoms. And he slips them on, tying the strings. He rubs his face with his hands and lets out an explosive sigh.

“Alright. I know you requested that I forgo the pajamas tonight, but I think one of us needs to be at least partly clothed. You may sleep naked if you wish, my dear.”

“I don’t want to present more temptation, and make you uncomfortable. Would you like me to sleep in my work dress?”

He laughs, some of the tension easing from his voice.

“No, I don’t want you to sleep in your work dress. It would be nice to have you against me in nothing at all. I can handle the discomfort.”

He takes the robe and tosses it over a nearby chair, and I roll off the bed as he pulls down the covers so we can get under them. The bed is huge, the mattress so comfortable that I feel sleepy at once. At a glance from him, the fire dies down and the lamps extinguish themselves. Only a few candles are still burning. Outside, we can hear the patter of rain against the ivy leaves that still cover the balcony. He waves his hand, and the trailing vines can be heard moving back to their former positions against the brick walls of the Sanctum. When he joins me beneath the covers, I curl up in his arms immediately.

Nestled against his chest, the luxurious sheets and blankets keeping us warm, the scent of rain coming on a cool breeze through the open balcony doors, I feel more content and happier than I ever have in my life. I rest my cheek on his bare chest, listening to his heart beating. He strokes my hair with one hand, his other on top of mine on his stomach.

“Does this count as our second Friend Date?” I ask softly.

“I don’t think so. We went a little beyond what friends do together, don’t you think? This is our first romantic date, I believe.”

“Mistress Clea will know something is different when she returns.”

“Leave that to me. Just stay out of her way as best you can. And don’t do anything out of the ordinary. She can’t read minds like I can, Holly. But you’re a terrible liar…she wouldn’t have to. Can you hold it together for a few more months?”

“Yes Master. I know I can.”

“Good girl. We’ll get through this. It may be a little challenging for a bit, but we will endure it. It has to be done right.”

“Or she’ll kill me.”

“She can’t, Holly. I saw to that. She can’t kill you as long as you keep that necklace on at all times. The moment I put it on you, the spell was put into effect.”

I’m quiet then. We both are. Listening to the rain and one another’s breathing.

“Are you going to tell Master Wong about tonight?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it. He is my best friend, I usually tell him everything. But I think I’ll leave the details out. Tonight didn’t unfold as it did just so I could brag about it. This was special, just for us. Are you going to tell Ming?”

“Certainly not. I feel protective of you, I don’t want any word to get back to Mistress Clea’s ears even by accident.”

“She’ll be gone tomorrow night, too.”

“Then I will be here at ten, as per your instructions.”

I can feel him kiss the top of my head, and I sigh sleepily and hug him.

“Good night, Holly.”

“Good night Master. I hope sweet dreams find you.”

“They already have.”

I close my eyes, chest warmed with love and joy, and within moments I am fast asleep.


	11. Deepening the Bond

It is still dark when I awaken, and my eyes open to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling cast in waning candlelight. For a moment, I don’t remember where I am. Then it comes back to me.

I look beside me, and there he is. Asleep on his back, the dim light playing across the side of his face, the covers rumpled about his waist. I stare at him for a long time. Master Strange. I am in his bed. I am naked. He is right here, and we are alone together. Sighing, I lie back against the pillows, still looking at the miracle of my Master next to me. Not in my narrow bed in the servants’ quarters, but in his bed, in his room.

And as I watch, he turns his head and his eyes open. Slowly, he reaches for me and draws me into his arms. We are both warm and soft from sleep, close together under the blankets. Saying nothing. His lips press against the hollow of my throat, and I sigh with pleasure. For a little while we simply cuddle. Something I never in a thousand years thought I would be doing with him. I stroke the hair on his right temple, looking into his eyes. There is so much ahead that will be unpleasant, so many challenges that he will need to face. I wish I could face them for him, but I can’t.

We kiss. Slowly and tenderly, his arms around me and the warmth of his bare chest against mine. I caress his cheek when we part.

“I love you, sir.”

He makes no verbal answer. He is rolling on top of me, and it feels incredibly good to have his weight there, pressing me into the mattress. His lips on mine again and our eyes closed. I want to please him so badly. Now seems the time, now while the rest of the house sleeps and there is no one but us. I wrap my arms around his neck and give into the kiss. Still a little clumsy, but learning.

“Master, I need to serve you. Show me how to bring you pleasure.”

“Not yet, Holly. Hush. No more words.”

Obediently, I fall silent. When he begins to bestow a row of kisses on me from lips to chin to throat to breasts, I try to steady my breathing. I know what is coming now. I know what it will feel like, and how intense it will be. I don’t know if I can bear it.

He draws back the covers and parts my thighs with his hands, and this time I do not fight. I simply look down at him, biting my lip in the candlelight, looking into his eyes. His hair is gloriously tousled. I want to run my fingers through it and kiss him until I can’t breathe. Tenderly, he traces the petals of my womanhood with his fingertips, watching me.

“You are beautiful, Holly. Your entire body is beautiful to me. You’ll be beautiful even when you’re an old woman.”

“I hardly think you’ll want me when I am an old woman.” I say softly. He caresses my legs, pressing kisses to each hip bone.

“I will, Holly. And you’ll be too infirm to outrun me. I will have what I want from you. Just as I will tonight.”

Then he is kissing the sensitive place between my thighs, and I can’t think. I lean back, gripping the bedding in my fists, my eyes fluttering closed as his tongue eases into me. He is kissing me as though he’d encountered full and welcoming lips, and not a female’s intimate parts. The sensation is unlike anything I have ever felt in my life. I can’t bite back the weak moans that rise from me, but he is gentle and slow. Gone is the urgency from before, in the bath. This is tender, loving. I begin to tremble uncontrollably only a few minutes later, and his hands find mine. Our fingers entwine.

“Master….”

“Easy. Shhhhh.” He tells me softly. The pleasure is manageable this time, thanks to his patience. I can breathe through it, and he is so gentle that little waves of sensation ripple through me rather than the explosion that nearly caused me to black out before. The tingles rise to a crescendo three times before he draws back, kissing my belly and moving up to cradle me against him again. His fingertips smooth away the tears on my face.

“You take pleasure and pain so beautifully, Holly. Your tears are lovely. The perfect submissive.”

“Th-thank you Master.” I want to kiss him for hours, cover his whole body in kisses. I want to find out if he loses control when the passion rises. But he’s been clear in his desire that we wait. Denying his own needs to focus solely on mine. I lightly rub his chest with my palm.

“Do you cuddle your wife this way?”

“I used to, in the beginning. She isn’t fond of it anymore.”

“But you still make love.”

“When she initiates it. I never do these days. She takes delight in denying my advances. I think it makes her feel that she holds some sort of power over me. But when it does happen, she’s very clear in her instructions. It used to be mutual, a partnership of intimacy. Not so much anymore.”

“She…said you made love twice the other day, and that you told her she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.”

“She is. But there are more important things than raw beauty. Physical attractiveness fades in time. Kindness, wit and humor, respect, love, compassion, sensuality, a spiritual connection. These things don’t fade.” He sighs, brushing a kiss over my brow. “And I always make love at least twice. She’s even chided me for my insatiability. I’m sure she left that part out. What else did she tell you while she was looking for weak spots?”

I hesitate.

“When she threatened the staff with physical punishment if they crossed the line with you, I told her that it wasn’t her place to correct anyone with corporal measures. Only the Master of the Sanctum has that power. She told me that she would…compel you to flog me personally if anyone transgressed. Said that you would probably enjoy it, and your passions would be roused and she’d have a nice night while I tended my wounds. I swore I wasn’t going to tell you any of this. Please don’t intercede, sir. I think I’ve got it managed.”

“Oh for God’s sake! Clea needs to stop antagonizing my staff. No, Holly. No one here is going to be flogged. Definitely not you. I would adamantly refuse. I’m a bit shocked that you stood up to her. That was brave and dangerous. But I support you. How did Ming take it?”

“She wasn’t there. She’d spent the night with Master Wong, and was just coming down to fetch his breakfast from the kitchen.”

“And the new girl? Emma?”

“Tearful and shocked, like all of them. Amara hid in a toilet stall.”

He groans and covers his eyes with one hand.

“No one is going to be punished here. Unless it’s you, and you agree to it, and it’s for pleasure behind closed doors when Clea is away. From your reaction to the paddling I think it will be a little while before that happens again. I have no wish to make you cry with pain. And I intend to tell Amara personally that I will protect her always. That child has been through enough in her life. I won’t stand for her being abused. I feel like a father to her.”

“She sees you as one, you and Master Wong both.”

“I’ll have a word with Emma in private as well. She’s only been here a week and it’s been nothing but fights and unrest. I’d like to set her mind at ease. Listen to me, Holly. If there is ever a time when you can’t get to me, and Clea is about to truly harm anyone in this household, all you have to do is put yourself in the way. That necklace you wear will deflect her spells, and if it senses that your life is in imminent danger it has a spell of its own to cast.”

“She would be furious with you if she knew you’d enchanted a gift for me.”

“You let me worry about her fury. A few slaps to the face, I will take. But if she suddenly gets it in her head that a pitched battle intended to badly injure me is what she wishes, she’ll find out rather quickly that she can’t defeat me, and I do have a limit as to what is tolerable. She’s already approaching that limit with the way she treats you girls. Wong wouldn’t put up with it either. If he had seen what happened, I think we would have had a serious problem on our hands.”

“Which is why I asked the staff not to tell the Masters what had happened. But I can never conceal anything from you.”

“I don’t want you to learn that skill, Holly. Lying to me won’t be tolerated.” His voice is just the slightest bit deeper, sterner when he says this. It makes me shiver deliciously.

“I would never lie to you, sir. Never. I respect you too much.”

“I know, Pet. And I want you to feel comfortable and safe in telling me the truth. Your innocence and purity are beautiful. They’re why you are here in this bed with me right now.”

“I love you, Master.”

He strokes the side of my face. The cheek that Clea hit during that terrible scene in the bathroom.

“A few months at the most, Holly. Then I would imagine that she’ll be gone. And you and I can have our secret relationship without fear of malice.”

“Will you be able to wait a few months before we make love, sir? I don’t want to cheapen it by having it happen when I’m just a mistress.”

“Holly,” He shakes his head, pulling me closer and stroking my hair, “You’ll never be ‘just’ anything. And the first time we make love won’t be a cheap experience no matter what my marital status. But I’ll honor your wishes. I want to show you that I respect you just as much as you respect me. A good Master isn’t a bully. He listens to his submissive’s requests.”

I love hearing him call me that. It makes me feel like there’s some sweet and luscious secret between us. I kiss his neck, closing my eyes again.

“Tonight when I come to you, would you like to have something of an adventure?”

“Absolutely. Whatever you wish.”

I smile, feeling myself begin to drift off to sleep again.

“Wonderful. Prepare to cast a portal then. I want to show you someplace dear to me. A place near where I grew up.”

“It would be an honor.”

We breathe together, just enjoying this closeness. This simple warmth and companionship. Then, slowly, we both drift off to sleep.

I awaken with the dawn. My Master is asleep on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms. For a little while I simply watch him, breathing with him in the same rhythm. The way, surely, that Eve must have done as she watched the miracle of her mate while he slept. A strange thought or memory comes to me out of nowhere, and it seems that I dreamed something of the sort.

The Garden, wet thick grass around my ankles, walking into the light of morning a step behind the tall man ahead of me. I would know that figure anywhere. I had been something new in the dream. And had just been about to speak when wakefulness stole away the moment, and my eyes opened.

Now, in the dim light filtering through the curtains of the balcony, I watch the bare back of my Master rise and fall slightly as he breathes. There are chores to do. Ming will be up soon to begin breakfast, I must slip back to my room and change into work attire. Nothing can appear to be out of the ordinary, my safety depends on it. As quietly as I can, I ease out of bed and bring up the covers to securely tuck him in again. He stirs slightly in his own dreams, but does not wake. I pull on my work dress, fold up the white dress, step into my slippers and leave the room soundlessly.

Two hours later, freshly showered and dressed, my face scrubbed free of makeup and my heart glowing with pure joy, I am carrying his breakfast tray up to him. Amara is beside me, having insisted upon accompanying me because she wished to bring him a large armload of lilacs that she’d gathered from the bushes in front of the house. I don’t deny her this request, still feeling badly about what happened the day before.

“Are you SURE that….that Mistress Clea isn’t inside?” Her small face is cast into a look of worry. I give her a comforting smile, shaking my head.

“I know she isn’t. She left last night and will be gone for a few days. You’re safe, sweetheart. I would protect you even if she were here.”

Amara brightens, and when we reach the master bedroom she opens the door without knocking, as she used to, and runs inside. Master Strange has finished dressing, and he turns just in time to catch the exuberant girl as she sets down the large vase and runs to him with a cry of pure happiness. His deep chuckle is so full of warmth and love that it makes my chest tingle.

“Little Starfish!” He picks her up for a moment and twirls her around like a dancer, then sets her small feet on the floor again and takes her hands. “Now what do you have there? Have you brought me flowers?”

“Yes Master! Lilacs! They grow right outside my window, and they fill the whole room with scent in the spring time! I wanted you to smell it too! Come see! There are purple ones and also white ones, and even these here that are pink!” She tugs him over to the vase, and he leans down to breathe in their pure, sweet aroma. Gently, he kisses Amara’s soft brown cheek.

“They are beautiful, Amara. The third most beautiful thing in the room apart from the two of you.”

I blush slightly at the compliment, setting the breakfast tray down on the coffee table, and I begin to prepare him a mug of tea.

“All of us are making or collecting presents to bring you, sir! Everyone is so happy that we get to serve you again that we wanted to celebrate! Even the new girl, Emma, is making something! She knows how to knit! Socks. I think it is socks.”

I can feel his gaze on me, but I don’t dare glance up. I don’t trust myself to keep my face neutral after what transpired last night. Amara is excitedly chattering on, oblivious to any tension in the room. When Master Strange sits down on the small love seat, she sits beside him to keep talking. He plucks a piece of pineapple from the bowl of fruit and holds it to her lips for her to take, laughing.

There are a few seconds of silence as she chews, and finally our eyes meet. There is desire there, and unspoken emotion. I smile shyly and lower my gaze, and I feel as though I am glowing.

“Little Starfish, do you think you could fetch the cream for me? This morning I feel like having some in my tea.”

Amara kisses his cheek and hops off the love seat. “Yes Master! I’ll be right back!” She calls, trotting to the door.

When she is gone he rises to his feet, coming to me.

“You’ve never taken cream in your tea before, sir.”

“I wanted a moment alone with you. How are you after last night?”

“I am wonderful, sir. It was the most beautiful night of my life.”

“I didn’t go too far?”

“The Twinkies were definitely too far, Master. I’ll need a ride into town later on to submit a formal complaint. Do you know how many preservatives are in those things? The nutrition police will want a word with you.”

“They’ll never take me alive. I’m not going back to prison.”

“Just as well, sir. You’re much too pretty for prison.”

He laughs, and after looking over my shoulder to make sure no one else is lingering in the hall, he kisses my forehead and cheeks.

“Amara seems to be in a wonderful mood.” He returns to the love seat, lifting the lid from his plate, and takes a drink of tea. I turn to make the bed.

“She is beside herself with happiness, Master. You mean so much to the staff here. They don’t serve you simply because they feel they have to, or because they’re being forced. This is and always has been a labor of love for all of us.”

“I’m sorry you went through a difficult time. Those days are finished, I promise.”

“No more difficult a time than you have been enduring, sir.”

He shoots me a look, and I lower my head.

“Forgive me Master. It’s not my place to say such things.”

“Holly, you have my permission to speak your mind fully when we are alone. By all means, continue to guard your words when we’re around others. But I respect your opinions, and I want to hear them.”

“Thank you, sir.” My chest warms. “I want you to know that these past few days of gradually growing closer to you have been perfect.”

“I’m far from perfect. No one knows that better than you.”

“I’m willing to overlook your inability to fry an egg without breaking the yolk. That’s what you have me for, Master. Everything else is completely forgivable.”

He’s quiet. I turn away to make the bed, this bed that I slept in with him last night, and will sleep in again at the end of the day today. His soft voice gives me pause when he speaks next.

“I won’t be unfaithful to you the way I have been with Clea.”

“Master, I ask you for no promises. I’ve made mine, and I will abide by them. But yours is such an uncertain, dangerous, multidimensional life that for me to ask anything of you, even exclusivity, would be demanding too much. I won’t slap your face and throw a temper tantrum if you tumble into bed with The Night Nurse or Scarlet Witch or even Morgana Blessing. I won’t berate you for taking comfort in the arms of a friend, or even a stranger. I love you without demand.”

“Then why are you saying all of this with your back to me? Is it, perhaps, to hide your face and your expression?””

“Yes sir.”

“Turn around. Leave the bed. Amara will be back in a moment, you can tend to it then. This is important.”

Reluctantly, I do so.

“I’m not Clea, sir. And I don’t want some promise keeping you faithful. Promises can be broken. I want to be so attentive and so supportive and such a skilled lover that you simply have no desire for anyone else. I don’t want a promise. I want natural, organic fidelity. Because that’s unbreakable.”

His eyes darken with emotion, and he’s about to speak when Amara bursts into the room again carrying the creamer pot in her hands. She brings it to him and sets it down, climbing onto the loveseat again to kiss his cheek. Then she’s trotting over to me to help with the bed. My Master and I look at one another for a few seconds more, unspoken words between us. And I turn away to straighten the sheets and smooth the bedspread with Amara, who is chattering happily about the number of birds she saw in the courtyard today.


	12. The Second Night

The day is largely uneventful, filled with the usual chores. I can barely keep my mind focused on the tasks at hand, so distracted am I by the events of last night. And the coming events of tonight.

The morning passes in a flurry of activity. Then the afternoon. At four o’clock, I am in the garden refilling the bird feeders when Emma approaches me. Her beautiful face wears an expression of distress, and she looks behind her as she approaches me. I pause, setting aside the feed bucket, and reach for her hands as she comes near.

“Emma. You look unhappy. Didn’t you have lunch with Master Strange? You should be feeling wonderful! What’s troubling you?”

She is the only other light-skinned person here besides myself, Master Strange, and Clea. Emma is tall and generously curved, her abundant golden hair loosely tied back in a French braid. She wears makeup, unlike most of us, and came here from Sweden only a week before. I hold onto her hands, lowering us both into a sitting position on the stone bench.

“I need to talk to you.” She tells me in a low voice. Immediately, alarm floods my body. Please don’t let her be about to quit! She is one of the most highly skilled seamstresses that Kamar Taj has ever seen! And she was hand trained, as were we all. I put a hand to her shoulder, ready to talk her into staying if I have to.

“Of course. Whatever is on your mind, it will stay between us. I promise. You can say anything at all to me, Emma.”

I am not prepared for what follows.

“I think I’m in love with Master Strange.” She says, looking down at the daffodils growing near the bench. I squeeze her hand in understanding. Not yet alarmed.

“I completely understand. He is exceptionally enticing. A crush is nothing to be ashamed of, Emma. You are entitled to have one. Just be wary and careful not to let on that you have such feelings to Mistress Clea. It could spell disaster. We all have little crushes on him.”

“This is DIFFERENT!” She insists, and her beautiful blue eyes are filled with tears. She releases my hands, looking miserable. “I love him! We kissed, and it was magic.”

There are no words to describe the darkness that suddenly covers my heart and wraps my spirit in ice.

I feel numb. Sickened. Angry. Used. Worthless. Lied to. BROKEN.

He kissed her?! WHAT?! How many of us has he done this with?! Am I merely another plaything in his roster of females who would fall at his feet? Is that what I am?! Carefully, I control my voice. I need to remember my place, my purpose, my job here. I am the head of staff. I need to be here for Emma now.

I pat her hand, even though I feel like bursting into tears and running.

“He kissed you? Emma, he is married to Mistress Clea. She could kill you if she found out. You need to control your feelings.”

“No! I kissed him! I mean, he seemed shocked by it. He pulled away. But then he hugged me and sighed, and told me he needed to get me out of here. Said something about complications. I think he’s going to have me transferred! But we’re in love, I’m sure of it. Before he gently pushed me away, I FELT his hands tremble!”

_Because he has nerve damage in them! Not because he’s in love with you, you silly twit!_ I think it, but I don’t say it.

“Emma, Emma….shhhhh. Relax. Take a few deep breaths. Easy now. Just talk to me.”

She wipes at her streaming eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to him tonight. To his room, after everyone else has gone to sleep. And I’m going to offer myself to him. Even with that awful woman here, he needs someone who will see to his needs! I can be that person! He said I was lovely. He called me a lovely girl! And when he told me how sorry he was that all I’d seen since I arrived was fighting, he touched my arm! He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. When he did that, I touched his cheek and then I kissed him. He pulled away, and his hands were shaking, and then I started to unbutton the front of my gown.”

I want to break something. She continues, breathless and in love.

“He stopped me. I’m _sure_ it was just because he wants to wait! He’s not sure of what to do yet! But he’ll figure it out. He’ll get rid of that awful woman and he’ll take me as his wife, I just know it. I mean, LOOK at me! I’m as beautiful as Clea is! I can please him! I can bring him to heights of ecstasy he’s never even DREAMT of! I touched his hip and then massaged him between his thighs, and he looked like he was about to throw me to the floor and ravage me! It was such a passionate moment!”

“Was it now.” _I will endure this. I will endure this. I will endure this._ “Tell me more.”

“Well, he tenderly moved my hand away from him and guided me to the door, and told me that he was deeply flattered by my attention. Then he said he needed to get me out of here. I think he’s trying to protect me.”

“I’m…..sure he is, Emma. And you should accept that protection.”

“No! I’m going to his room tonight, after dinner. And offering myself to him. It’s the only way.”

I nod, sighing. This isn’t something I can handle for him. It is something he will need to handle himself. But what happens with Emma will absolutely decide what I do tonight. There are no two ways about it. If he takes her to his bed, I will return to being a servant and nothing more. If he tries to compel me to submit, I will of course do as I am told. But my heart will not be his. Never. I will be the weak little submissive that Clea named me as. Kneeling at his feet, taking what he gives me.

“You must do as you see fit, of course. I will…..keep the halls clear for you after supper. So that you may speak to him alone.”

Emma throws her arms around my neck and hugs me, kissing my cheek.

“I knew you would understand! Thank you, Miss Holly!”

I pat her shoulder.

Inside, I am as cold and dead as a burned-out star.

The evening passes. I say nothing to anyone. Ming makes supper. I send Nima to bring Master Strange his dinner in the west library. When she is dispatched, I set to work laying out plates for the rest of the staff. Everyone appears except Emma. I try not to notice. I try not to care. When her absence is marked. I sharply respond that she is serving the Master, and everyone needs to focus on eating the evening meal and then retiring for the night.

It’s not like me to be sharp with them, ever. Amara and Ming in particular look at me with shock. But I move to the freezer and dig out a gallon of ice cream, dishing up bowls for everyone, and I place them on the wooden table with a forced smile and tell them all to enjoy the treat. Amara is distracted by this, as is everyone else.

Ming is not.

She sidles up to me as I ignore my own dinner and begin washing dishes.

“What’s wrong? That bitch is gone, you should be walking on sunshine.”

“I’m fine, Ming. Mind your business.”

“Horse shit. You’re not fine. You’re about to cry. Do you want to come to my room after dinner? We can play Mah Jong and drink sake and laugh.”

“That sounds lovely, actually. But won’t you be busy with Master Wong?”

“He’s at Kamar Taj for the evening, seeing to the new group of students. He won’t be back until midnight or so, and he said when he arrives back here he’ll come get me even if I’m asleep!”

I smile at her, touching her hand.

“You are both very lucky to have found love. I wish you nothing but joy.”

“Where’s Emma, Holly?”

“With Master Strange.”

Ming looks stricken, then infuriated. I grip her wrist.

“I don’t know what’s happening. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. But I need you to be strong for me. Please. I am begging you. I have never begged you for anything before. Do this. Help me see to the staff, and then get me to your room. I’m…..I’m not alright.”

Ming takes my hand in just as firm a grip, and she nods. Her almond-shaped eyes steady on my face. A moment later, she is helping me finish the pots and pans. When Nima returns and sits at the table, Ming brings her something to eat and a dish of ice cream. I am washing the same pot over and over and over again.

“Alright people, finish up! This isn’t an all night cafeteria, we have closing hours! I’m tired!”

“Yeah, because Master Wong’s been exhausting you!”

“Oh my God shut UP, Tenzin! I’ve been exhausting HIM, if anything!”

There’s a ripple of laughter in the assembled group, and then more happy chatter. I keep washing the pot. Gradually, people begin to bring me their empty plates and cups and forks and knives and spoons as they finish. Ming stands beside me, handing me items as they come, bidding the staff good night one at a time.

Finally we are alone.

I set aside the pot and glance up at the clock. Eight forty-five. Still no sign of Emma. Ming is washing the last of the spoons, pocketing a few. I sit down at the table and mechanically eat a plate of fish and yellow rice. Ming says nothing, drying the dishes and putting them away.

Nine o’clock.

I rise, and bring my dishes to the sink to wash them. Ming takes them from me and washes them herself, then puts her hand in mine.

“Come on. Mah Jong and sake. You don’t need him. You have everything you need. You have friends, you have your work, you have me. You have Master Wong. You will catch the eye of some handsome man in the streets of New York, and he will sweep you off your feet and take you away from all of this. You will never serve anyone again.”

I say nothing.

Nine thirty.

We are sitting in Ming’s room on her bed, playing Mah Jong. I am on my second cup of warm sake. Her fat lazy cat, Neko, is asleep on the pillow beside me. His drowsy purr is soothing. I pet his gray and white fur absently, feeling him vibrate with pleasure.

“Your turn.”

I can’t focus on the game. I try though, and make mistakes. Ming pours me more sake.

Nine forty five.

Three cups of sake now, and we are still playing the complicated game. It is challenging. Ming always wins. If this were chess, I might be able to beat her. It is not, and I am bested.

Ten o’clock.

If Emma had not come to me, I should be standing before Master Strange’s door now. But Emma is there. Emma is with him. Maybe he is kissing her. Maybe they are taking a bath together. Maybe he is lifting her hips in his hands. Maybe she is thrashing under the pleasure of his touch.

Ten fifteen.

A fourth cup of sake. I feel sick to my stomach, but I drink more. I play the game. I focus on the stalwart girl in front of me. She is loyal. Fierce. Passionate. She takes what she wants in life, and does not lament what she cannot have.

Ten thirty.

No word from Emma, even though the door is open and we would have seen her walk past us if she walked back to her room. I want to sob. I can’t. I want to be angry. I want to be sad. All I feel is betrayal, and resignation, and a numb sort of loss. My emotions have shut down. I get up and close the door. Ming pours me a fifth cup of sake.

I am just lifting it to my lips when there is a soft tap at the newly closed bedroom door. Wong must be back early, coming to visit Ming. I should get up and answer it, of course. But this is not my bedroom, and I have no energy to face anyone. I stay where I am, staring at the carpet.

Ming looks over my shoulder, and she climbs to her feet while I stay on the floor. A moment later I hear her easing the door open. There is silence for a few seconds.

“How may I serve you, sir?” She asks flatly. There is a tight anger in her voice.

NO ONE speaks to a Master with anger, or annoyance, or frustration. She shouldn’t even speak that way to Wong, her soon to be lover! I look back over my shoulder, and I am stunned to see Master Strange stepping into Ming’s room. He regards her mildly.

“I’ve come to see Holly. I suspected she might be here.” His voice is like deep, rich velvet. I shiver to hear it. I am drunk, and hurt, and Emma never walked by the door, and she kissed him and touched him intimately, and I am not as special as I imagined.

“She isn’t feeling well. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to speak, Master.” Ming says firmly, and she folds her arms. She loves Master Strange! But it would seem that she loves me more. I get to my feet too, knowing that I have to do something. It is my PLACE to do something. I have to act. I put a hand to Ming’s slim shoulder, and I look to Master Strange.

“Forgive me, Master. I didn’t wish to disturb your evening.”

“Holly was being polite. Sir.” Ming adds. She does not uncross her arms.

Master Strange tilts his head, and there is the softest smile on his lips. He steps forward into the room. I move back a pace. Ming does not. And in another second, he is standing over her.

“You’re angry, Ming. Why.”

“Because I love Holly. And Joseph loves Holly. And we thought you did too.”

“What would make you say that? I love all of you very much.”

“Will you be needing me to take on Emma’s duties tomorrow while she sleeps in?” Ming is MERCILESS. I cover my mouth with both hands, staring not at Master Strange, but at her. She steps closer to him, and taps a finger against his chest. I am shocked to see tears in her eyes. “Holly is worth her weight in pure gold. Better than gold. She loves you. She LOVES you, Master Strange. We all love you. I love you. But you’re treating Holly like her love doesn’t matter, and that’s the meanest thing I can think of! I thought you were different! I thought….”

He takes her by the shoulders, and she falls silent. For a few long moments, he stares at her. His jaw tightening. Anger flashing through his eyes. He expects defiance from Clea. Not from his servants. This is the first time any one of us has ever been willfully disrespectful. They simply look at one another as he decides what to do. How to handle this. But he can smell the sake. Ming is emotional, protective, and angry. I am hurting. He realizes that Emma must have spoken to one of us. The late hour seems damning given this information. His eyes shift to me, then back to Ming. He considers her, and then pulls her against him to wordlessly embrace her.

“I sent Emma back to Kamar Taj to be reassigned. This isn’t the right place for her. But I believe the London Sanctum would be perfect.”

Shock fills my chest. Then warmth. I move forward. Unable to speak. Master Strange releases Ming, and he turns to look at me. His eyes are sad.

“I assumed that at least one of you would have trusted me.”

Shame floods my body, and I lower my head. Ming looks shocked, then embarrassed as well.

“I’m sorry, Master Strange, for doubting you. I’ll gather Emma’s things and make sure they get to her at Kamar Taj. Can you forgive me?”

“Ming, you are one of the bravest, most loyal women I have ever known. There’s no forgiveness that needs to be extended. Your devotion to your friend is admirable. I hope Wong protects me as fiercely.”

“He would, Master. He would die for you. As would we all. I don’t know anything about the situation between you and Holly. And tonight, I never saw either of you. I was drinking alone in my room, waiting for Joseph.”

Master Strange nods, but his eyes are on me now. Is that disappointment I see? God, it is. I’ve hurt him. I look at the floor, and when he turns to leave I wordlessly follow him.

He doesn’t speak to me as we climb the stairs and walk down the hallway together to the master bedroom. With a sigh, he pushes the door open, and when I am inside he closes and locks it. Then he gently taps Levi, who detaches from his shoulders and wafts over to the cloak rack to rest. I still don’t look up. My hands folded in front of me. I can tell he’s facing me. His boots are in my line of vision.

“You know, in many ways you are every bit as jealous as my wife. You just hide it better.”

My heart sinks into my stomach. I want to cry. Instead, I say nothing and wait for him to finish.

“The first thought that came into your mind when Emma made her feelings for me known was that they would be reciprocated. You assumed I would take her to bed simply because she’s young and pretty and willing. That hurts me, Holly.”

“Master, I am so sorry. I didn’t know what to think…”

“Do you believe me to be that weak-willed? Do you really think I’m as bad as my wife seems to think? Am I about to trade one jealous, bitter woman for another?”

Tears begin to form in my eyes, and they drip down the curve of my nose and onto the carpet. I don’t know what to say or do. So I reach for him, and his arms move around me. Rubbing my back.

“I didn’t touch her, Holly. I was cordial, and understanding, and kind. I told her that I would give her an excellent reference for the London Sanctum. Its master is young and handsome, and he will welcome Emma with open arms. He’ll probably take her as his lover in a heartbeat. She’s a good girl. She deserves to be appreciated. But the position she wanted to fill in my life is already taken. Holly, we can’t have any kind of a relationship if you don’t trust me.”

Still, I am silent. He releases me, stepping away to the wardrobe to begin removing his robes for the night.

“Maybe it’s too much to ask. You know all of my secrets. You know about the escorts. You know about my friends and associates who have come here and spent the night with me. Well here are a few things you don’t know. The last time Linda, the Night Nurse, spent the night…we watched old movies together, and she fell asleep on the couch. I moved her to the bed and lay down beside her, and it was enough just to have a warm body in the room with me. We didn’t make love. Three months ago when Wanda came here late and embraced me at the door, it wasn’t because I’d called her. She was hurting. She was in pain because she missed Vision. Clea was gone. We’d had a bad fight and she had stormed out. Usually she stays away for a couple days when she does that. I brought Wanda to this bedroom and I sat her down and poured her a cup of wine and listened to her cry. She told me how much she missed everything, being touched and held and kissed. How much she missed him. That beautiful creation of Tony’s that took on a life of his own. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks, and begged me to find a way to bring him back. I couldn’t. I don’t have that power. She pushed me, scratched me, beat on my chest with her fists. Began to glow, and I dampened her magic and pulled her into my arms and I held her until she calmed down. I picked her up and carried her to the bed, and I cradled her in my arms while she cried. She kissed me, she wanted to feel alive again. But she wasn’t in her right mind. It would have been the worst kind of advantage-taking if I had decided to make love to her then. I kissed her back, but that was all. She fell asleep in my arms. In the morning, she left. Feeling comforted and strong again. You think I’m some kind of womanizer. You and Clea both. But I’m not. I never have been. Have I been intimate with escorts and friends from time to time? Yes. But it’s rare. VERY rare. What I miss is holding a woman, and not feeling alone. And I have promised you that I won’t allow it with anyone else except you and my wife, until such time as she leaves me. Holly….”

He walks over again, and takes me by the shoulders. His hand is under my chin and I am being forced to look up at him.

“If you can’t trust me, if you can’t love me, if you can’t be strong for me….then I don’t want you to be with me. I would rather endure life alone than cause pain to someone else. Now I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me. Can you trust me?”

I bite my lip, and then I nod once.

“Can you believe in me?”

Again, I nod.

“You didn’t come at ten tonight like you promised. You assumed that I was with Emma. So you went to Ming, and you got drunk, and you ignored your word to me that you’d come. I went to your room and found it empty. I was surprised and disappointed. But I know who your best friend is. I came to look for you. Tonight, you made me chase you, Holly.”

I have never been more ashamed in my entire life. I sink to my knees, lowering my head and kissing the tops of his boots, weeping.

“I’m not worthy of you, Master.” I whisper. He sighs, and kneels down to touch my hair.

“When I give my word, I don’t break it. I never have. And I won’t break my promise to you. I love you, Holly. You have served me all of your adult life, and even before that. You’ve always been strong and faithful and obedient and subservient. You have never defied me until tonight, when you failed to appear at the time we agreed upon. I can’t let this go unpunished.”

My eyes immediately lock with his, and some of the tension eases in my chest. My pulse quickens.

“Call her, Master. Tonight. Your passions will be roused after you’ve punished me. You will need release. Let it be tonight. Call Lisa yourself. Master Wong isn’t here. He can’t do it for you. Send for Lisa. Show me everything I need to know tonight. I’m sorry for my lateness. I’m sorry for not trusting you. I’m sorry for failing you, Master. I love you. I….I desire you. Sir. I will never question you again. Send for Lisa, and then punish me. I won’t cry out. I will submit to anything you see fit. Only please forgive me. Please don’t stop loving me.”

He lifts his head a notch, staring at me with those pale, unreadable eyes for an uncomfortably long time. Then he glances at the bed, studying it. Considering what I’ve just said.

“You were worried that I was being intimate with one of your fellow servants. And now you want to watch intimacy happen between myself and a paid escort. I don’t understand you.”

“Neither do I, sir. But it feels right. Lisa is not someone I will have to see every day. She is not someone who is in love with you. She is not a rival. Not someone who could come between us. I want to be with you when you take a woman. I need to see what happens, how it’s done. Because…because someday…”

I trail off, lowering my head again. He looks back at me.

“Because someday, you want it to be you.” He finishes. I nod, slowly.

There is a long pause as he contemplates what to do. Then he casts a portal to his study, reaching through it into his desk to withdraw a small black leather book. When the portal snaps closed, I look up at him once more. He puts it in my hand.

“Not only do I want you to be the one to call for her tonight, Holly. I also want you to keep this. Destroy it, if you wish. My days of having strangers in my bed are over. And from now on, trust me. Make the call. She’s on the seventh page, and there is a red asterisk by the number. As I’ve said, I do favor her. Or at least, I did. Call her. Then you will remove your clothing and bend over the bed to take your punishment.”

My mouth goes dry, and I begin to shake. Me?! He wants ME to call the escort?! I haven’t….I’ve never….

But his eyes are on me, and all I can do is nod. I open the book, flipping to the right page. So many numbers. No names. Just as he said. He never learns their names. There is the asterisk. I know her name is Lisa.

I look up at him.

“What implement will you use for my punishment, sir?”

“None, Holly. Tonight, you will feel my hand against you.”

He steps away to finish changing into his black silk pajamas, letting me perform the task that he’s requested of me. When he steps into the bathroom to wash his face and shave, I pick up the phone on the little table beside his bed. My fingers tremble as I punch in the numbers.

There are two rings, and then a smooth female voice answers.

“Yes?”

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Lisa, it’s Holly. The….servant of Master Strange. Your presence is requested. Come to the side entrance as usual. I will let you in.”

“Holly? Very well. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Does he have any special requests tonight?”

Good God, she must ask Wong this question too. What the hell kind of ‘special requests’ could she be talking about?! My mind whirls.

“Wear something white. And….and a floral perfume. Sweet and innocent. Please.”

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.”

She hangs up, and I set the phone back in its cradle. I feel more nervous and stunned at my own behavior than I ever have in my life. Slowly, I remove my work dress and lay it over a chair. I step out of my panties, unclasp my bra, slip off my shoes. When I am completely naked, I move to the bed and bend over it, bracing my weight on my arms. I can’t breathe properly.

Behind me, he emerges. I look back at him, watching him button the pajama top. He smells of fresh cologne, hair neatly combed, and he looks unbelievably handsome. My heart gives a leap inside my chest. When he approaches me, I look back down at the bedspread. A moment later, I feel his lips against the small of my back.

“Tell me why you are about to be disciplined, Holly.”

“Because….because I doubted you, sir.”

“No. I don’t fault you for that. I understand. You’ve never loved anyone like this before, and everything is new and confusing for you. I should have sent for you the moment Emma left. I didn’t realize she’d spoken to you, but I ought to have guessed. I’ve been unfaithful in the past, and you know this. It’s understandable that you assumed I’d repeated a pattern.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I forgive you. I’m not going to punish you for your doubt. No. You’re about to be punished because you failed to follow a direct order. You were a half hour late, but it would be cruel to deliver thirty blows. There will be fifteen. And when I have finished, you will kneel at my feet and thank me. Just as you did last time. Do you understand?”

Fifteen?! FIFTEEN?! I was barely able to handle TEN before! I grip the bedspread, and I draw in a shaking breath.

“Y-yes sir.”

His hand is warm against my backside as he caresses me before the spanking commences. Then, seconds later, that beautiful scarred hand delivers the first blow. He is surprisingly strong for someone with extensive nerve damage. I gasp, my body jolting. I barely have time to register the pain before he strikes me again.

This is different. The sting is dulled, it is not as jarring as the paddle, and I can bear it with more courage. In fact, as he hits me for a third time, I am stunned to find that there is very little actual pain. Instead, there is an electric kind of pleasure that zips through my body and causes my nipples to stiffen, my thighs to shake, and an ache to grow in the pit of my stomach. I lower my head and moan. His soft chuckle is absolutely erotic.

“Do you like this, Holly?”

“Yes Master.”

“Would you still prefer that there be only fifteen?”

“N-no sir. I think…..I deserve thirty.”

He pauses long enough to lean down and kiss my bare shoulder. Then he whispers against my ear as the spanking continues.

“I want you to keep this in mind tonight, Holly. No matter what happens, I will be thinking of you the entire time. I want this to be you one day, when you’re ready. Darling little mouse, timid and sweet. I want you to lie beneath me. I want you to gasp against my lips as I enter you. I want to kiss away your tears. I want to bring you to the brink of insanity with the intensity of the pleasure you feel. After tonight, it’s just a matter of time, my Pet.”

My eyes close, and I lean into every deliciously stinging blow until my skin begins to burn and tingle. He isn’t hitting me as hard as he can. The discipline is softer now, more intended to arouse and not to hurt. I turn my head and catch his lips with mine, and he kisses me even as he strikes me. It’s a deep, penetrative kiss. He stops. We’ve both lost count. I am being lowered to the bed now, and he is on top of me, kissing me, pinning my wrists down and holding me immobile. I can feel the powerful male hardness of him between my thighs, and I raise my hips to press against him. The punishment did indeed arouse his passion. I wish I could be the one to alleviate his ache. But that honor isn’t to be mine. Not tonight. I am gasping when he finally leans up from kissing me and releases my hands.

He rises to his feet, reaching for his Sling Ring.

“Before the escort arrives, go to your room and get cleaned up. Bring your work clothing for tomorrow. Wear something loose and free, with nothing underneath. I will hold the portal open while you gather your things.”

“Yes Master.” I kneel at his feet, touching his leg. “Thank you for correcting me. I will return at once.”

I get up and step through the portal into my bedroom. Quickly, I collect fresh underthings, a work dress, and I fold them neatly and set them aside. Then, as he watches me, I open a drawer and pull out a soft pale green satin nightgown. I pull it on over my head and touch on a little perfume. Some strawberry lip gloss. I unbraid my hair and brush it out to hang in waves down over my shoulders. Gathering the bundle of work clothes and grabbing a robe to cover me for the moment I need to let Lisa in, I slip back through the portal again to kneel before him. The hissing gateway snaps closed behind me. He touches the top of my head, and I look up at him.

“I want you, Holly.”

“I want you too, sir. Badly.”

“You belong to me.”

“I belong to you, Master. Stephen. I am your submissive. Your Mouse. Your Pet. Your servant.”

“Dammit, Holly. You complicate the hell out of my life.”

“You’ve made mine a living nightmare too, sir.”

He laughs, and tugs me to my feet.

“Get a bottle of champagne and some snacks from the kitchen. She doesn’t eat enough. And take care that you’re not seen.”

“Yes Master.”

I put on the robe and tiptoe out, headed down the stairs to the kitchen to collect the requested items. It’s been about fifteen minutes. I decide to wait for Lisa after I’ve gathered a bottle of champagne and a plate of cheese and crostini and prosciutto and a small bowl of olives. I line up three glasses upside-down on the tray and set it aside, pacing in the kitchen. Usually, the bronze bell rings once, and I know what it means at that hour. I’ll immediately get dressed and go to the kitchen to wait by the side door for whatever guest is to be issued inside quietly and led to the staircase. This time, there is no Wong to summon me. I wait alone, biting my nails, until there’s a soft tap on the entrance.

When I open the door, Lisa is standing there. Looking gorgeous in a white sundress and a blue cardigan. Her dark hair piled on top of her head and her blood red lips curved in a smile. I take her hands and draw her inside, pulling the door closed.

“It’s good to see you, Holly. You look well.”

“I’m to watch you make love tonight.” I blurt out without preamble. Lisa tilts her head, but she doesn’t seem shocked or displeased.

“Oh? So he’s finally going to make a move then, is he? I’m glad.”

I blink, not understanding.

“Make…..make a move?”

Lisa puts one slim, manicured hand on my shoulder.

“Oh sweetheart! You delicate, naïve thing! He whispered your name once while we were having sex. I thought it was so sweet! That the Doctor actually had a crush on someone. It was ages ago. Mmmm, is that cheese? I’m famished!”

She reaches for a slice on the tray, and I immediately turn and open the refrigerator to pull out something more substantial. A few minutes later, I am following her up the stairs with a laden tray in my hands. Fresh bread, sliced beef, more cheese, a dish of mustard, a bowl of fruit, and the other sundries balanced on the tray in my hands. Lisa opens the bedroom door and steps in, very comfortable in these surroundings. I close the door, and carry the tray to the coffee table to set it down.

Lisa slips off her high heels at the door, setting them neatly to one side, and walks to my Master. He turns to look at her, and his expression is stern and unreadable. The slim woman kisses his cheek, and smiles up at him.

“Good evening, Doctor. How can I please you tonight?” She asks. I sit down on the sofa, folding my hands in my lap. Unsure of what to do, how to behave, where to sit or stand.

Thank God, Master Strange has the matter entirely under control. He takes a deep breath, casting me a look that seems to say ‘Are you sure?’

I nod slightly, and he squares his shoulders and beckons to me.

“Good evening……Lisa. Holly told me your name, and your course of study. Tonight will be our last professional meeting. At its conclusion, I have a parting gift to give you. But before that, I would like you to instruct my servant in all matters pertaining to the sensual. I will of course pay extra for the service.”

He is calm and businesslike. Not romantic, not the way I’d feared he would be with these beautiful women. Lisa tilts her head at the sound of her name on his lips for the first time, and everything in her seems to soften. She turns to me, holding out her hand.

“Come here, Holly honey. Don’t be shy.” She says kindly. I get up and slip the robe off my shoulders. And clad only in the nightgown, I move to take her hand. She is not hesitant or embarrassed. Gently, she smooths my hair back from my forehead and smiles down into my eyes. She is taller than I am by two inches or so, and perfectly shaped. Nearly as beautiful as Clea, although that is next to impossible for a human woman.

“She’s such a sweet, innocent little thing, Doctor. No wonder you adore her.”

“I do. She’s the perfect submissive.”

My Master sits down on the edge of the bed, watching the two of us. He begins to unbutton his pajama top, and I am mesmerized by the sight of his perfect smooth pale flesh revealed an inch at a time. I am so occupied with staring that I barely register when Lisa touches my cheek and turns my head to look up at her again. Then her red lips are on mine, and I am gasping with shock. I have never kissed a woman before. Her hand on the back of my head is firm, and after a few seconds I yield to the intimacy. She tastes of spearmint and lavender, and my own hands hesitantly move to her shoulders, then slide down to her waist.

“Good. Very good. Warm her up properly, my dear. I’d like to make sure that she enjoys tonight as much as you and I do.” Master Strange says. My eyes are closed, and I am shivering with pleasure. Lisa pulls back, stroking my cheek.

“Come lie on the bed, Holly darling. Just there, on that side. You’ll be able to see everything that way.” She murmurs.

And then she is releasing me, and going to my Master instead. I brace myself even as I climb onto the bed, trying to fight down the jealousy that enters my chest. I asked for this. I wanted this. I must pay attention, and not look away. I need to learn everything I can…because one day this will be me. He has said as much. Master Strange wants me to be his lover. The very thought makes my mouth go dry and my palms begin to exude the lost moisture. I lie down on my side, watching the escort as she touches the man I love most in the world.

Lisa eases open his pajama top and slides it off his shoulders and then tosses it aside, bending down to kiss his neck. Not his lips. This must be some unspoken rule. She whispers to him, and I can hear every word.

“Do you wish to beat me tonight, Doctor?”

I shiver, remembering every stroke of the spanking he delivered to me. Master Strange shakes his head.

“I disciplined Holly before you came.”

“Very well. Lie back, and I’ll relieve you of your tension.”

There is something so formal to this interaction. It is not romantic and intimate, not sweet and tender as I feared it might be. Lisa treats him with great respect, but not love. He accepts her touch, but not with emotion. When she eases him down onto his back, he looks at me. Not at her. Gracefully, she removes her white dress and stockings, leaving her in a white bra and thong. Master Strange looks upon these colored garments, chosen by me, with approval.

“I’ve never seen you in white before. I like it.”

“Thank you, Doctor. You have your servant to praise for the selection. She specified white, with a floral perfume.”

“I approve.”

He is on his back now, and she is straddling him in her pristine garments. I watch as she kisses his chest, moving down his body to grip the ties of his pajama bottoms in her teeth. Lisa growls softly, and he raises his hips to allow her to divest him of the garments. I cannot look away from him. His body is perfect. When Lisa drops the pants beside the bed, she moves lower still, and presses a kiss to his manhood the way I did last night. I hold my breath, my eyes flicking to look at his face. He reaches for me, and I move closer. When his lips meet mine, I sigh with pleasure at the contact.

There is a sharp intake of breath as Lisa eases his erection into her mouth, and I kiss him with more passion. He breaks it off after a moment, turning my face to watch what the escort is doing to him. I stroke his cheek lovingly, then move down to see more clearly as Lisa moves her head up and down to simulate copulation. I can feel my Master groan as the sensation hits him, and I am one hundred percent committed to doing this for him one day myself.

Lisa grips him in her hand, and looks at me.

“Are you ready to taste him, sweet girl?”

“N-not yet. I need to watch first.” I’m too nervous to even consider participating yet. Lisa does not pressure me. But she does take my hand in hers, and bring it to touch his shaft. Curling my fingers around his thickness.

“Stroke up and down in rhythm with my movements. Alright? You have to learn this, darling. Your Master is not a demanding lover. He is exceptionally generous and focused on his partner’s pleasure. But you must do your part too.” She drops her voice to a whisper, just for me. “His wife doesn’t do this for him. Ever. Not even once. He told me that she thinks it’s beneath her. That makes us special, Holly.”

My hand trembles as I grip him, and after a moment his scarred fingers caress mine. Guiding me. His eyes closed as Lisa pleasures him. His other hand moving to stroke my hair. Mine, not hers. He was not speaking a lie when he told me that he would be thinking of me tonight. I do as I’ve been instructed, watching Lisa take him into her mouth as deeply as she can, and then easing back. Only to glide down again. When he is shaking as hard as I am, she leans up and reaches behind her to unsnap her bra.

“Don’t look away, Holly. This is important. Are you a virgin?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you will be losing your virginity to your Master?”

I look to him. Slowly, he nods. I feel an explosion of tingles move through my entire body at the gesture. Clasping his hand in mine, not looking at the beautiful escort as she removes her panties, I respond.

“Yes, Lisa. I will be giving my virginity to Master Strange when the time is right.”

He is married. His wife is away. He loves her. He loves me. She still loves him, perhaps. Things are incredibly complicated. There is infidelity here, and shameful lust. But I can’t seem to eradicate my desire for him from my mind. I move closer, stroking his face as Lisa positions herself over him. She straddles his body, and when she guides him into her, he is looking at my face.

“I love you, Master.”

“I love you too, Pet.” He tells me, and his voice is low and sensual. His breath hitches when he is fully inside Lisa. She strokes my hair, her other hand on his bare chest.

“You two are so precious. What a beautiful experience it will be, your first time together.”

She begins to move, and I look down to the place where they are joined. Between her thighs, his length vanishes into her again and again, and he groans with the sensations that vibrate through his nerves. I want to please him too. But it’s not time yet. Not yet. So I do the only thing I can. I run my fingers through his hair, and I kiss his neck and bare shoulder. Whispering to him.

“It’s alright. You need this. You need to be loved, to be pleasured without demand. You deserve it. Your wife won’t do these things for you anymore. You’ve saved the world and the universe time and time again. Any day could be your last. A man has needs, and they should be met. I love you. I don’t judge you for this. You’ve done nothing wrong. You have been wronged, you have been neglected and mistreated and slapped and yelled at. You should always have this pleasure, this tenderness.”

His eyes open, and he turns his head to stare into my eyes. There is so much behind that gaze. So much loneliness and sorrow and need and loss. Such love, such a desire to be loved in return. I rise up on my knees then, and touch Lisa on the hip. She pauses, turning to stroke my cheek.

“Something you want, sweetheart?”

“Show me how to….how to p-pleasure him.”

“Holly….”

“No, Master. I want to learn this. Tonight. And I want to be able to do this for you whenever you desire. I don’t know what to do. But she does.”

“Well what do you think, Doctor? Has your servant earned a treat?”

Master Strange looks as though he has deep misgivings, but finally he nods.

“I don’t want you to think for one moment that I see you as a tool of release, Holly. You are so much more than that.”

“I know, sir. I know that.”

“If you find this unpleasant, you don’t have to do it. Ever.”

“I’m not Mistress Clea, sir. Something tells me she finds this sort of thing beneath her, doesn’t she.”

He lies back against the pillows again, saying nothing. Looking at the ceiling. It is all the answer I need. No. Clea doesn’t do anything that does not directly bring her physical pleasure. She is a selfish lover, taking and not giving. I look to Lisa now, as she eases him out of her and moves down on the bed. I mirror her movements, and soon we are lying on either side of him, our cheeks to his stomach, and Lisa is lazily caressing his erection with her fingertips. I bite my lip, meeting her gaze.

“You are absolutely beautiful, Holly.” Her voice is low.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Miss Lisa. But thank you. You’re gorgeous, and you have a beautiful body. His favorite escort, the one he requests more than any other. Show me what to do, how to do what you do.”

“You must always be gentle with him, dear. He receives so little tenderness in his life. He’s said as much, on the rare occasions we actually talk. So touch him as though he were made of gold and diamonds. Make him feel valued, treasured. Nothing seems to arouse him more than this.”

My heart gives a painful squeeze. How many nights has he given his wife every single bit of himself, only to have his own needs ignored? I find his hand and hold it as Lisa gently strokes him. She smiles.

“You’re good for him. Alright, honey. Lean over a little, and slide him into your mouth. Mind your teeth. I’ll hold him steady for you. Just move slowly, and do everything I tell you.”

It is surreal, this first experience of bringing erotic pleasure to my Master. He shivers deliciously when I ease my lips down his shaft, and I feel his muscles tighten. I rub his wrist with my thumb. Letting him know that he _is_ treasured and he _is_ valued and he is immensely loved. More important and more special than any other man in the world. Lisa touches the back of my head, guiding me with her hand and her voice in this unbelievably intimate act. I have never done this before. I never even imagined learning the skill. But I do as she says, and when he groans as he reaches the crest of sensation, Lisa holds me still to receive the warm salty result of his powerful climax.

“Hush, don’t pull back. Swallow. Drink. It’s normal. It’s natural. You did well, Holly.” She kisses my forehead.

I do as she says. When I move up to press my cheek to his chest, his arms are around me immediately. And I know I have done well. He’s out of breath. When I look up at him, there are tears on his cheeks. I kiss them away and nuzzle the perfect curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“I love you. I would do this every morning and every afternoon and every evening if you wished.”

“I think it might kill me if you did.” He cradles me in his arms as Lisa lies down with her head on the other pillow, watching us. A soft smile on her red lips.

“I think you have a true blessing working for you, Doctor.”

He sighs, nestling me against his chest, rubbing my back.

“I think so too.”

We lay like this for a little while, and then he rolls on top of me and braces himself on his arms, looking down at me. He kisses my cheeks and my nose and my chin and my neck, until I am giggling and hugging him. There is a sweet playfulness to this moment, an intimate and loving connection that I have not felt before. We shared something romantic and secret and special. I know how to do this now. I know how to bring him release. I feel empowered by the knowledge. When he moves off of me to cover Lisa with his body, I squeeze her hand gratefully.

Twice. He always makes love twice. Clea told me this. He told me this. And now his strength has returned for the second round. I lay on my side, rubbing his back as he eases inside Lisa again. This time, he is less tender. I keep running my fingers up and down his spine with my right hand, my left hand stroking Lisa’s dark hair back from her forehead as they move together. I take careful note of the way she moves her knees up to hug his sides, the way she meets his thrusts eagerly by lifting her hips. This seems to be causing her pleasure, not pain. I’m worried that I won’t be able to handle him the first few times, maybe not even the first dozen.

The copulation is passionate and rough, and near its conclusion Lisa cries out and buries her face in his chest. He holds her, although he still does not kiss her lips, and only when her convulsions have ceased does he begin to move again. His second crescendo is just as physically draining as the first. Lisa holds him and strokes the back of his neck as he releases his seed deep within her body, whispering words to him that I cannot hear. When it’s all over, he draws back from her and turns her on her side, facing away from him, to hold her against his chest. This seems to be a normal part of their intimacy. A necessary moment of tenderness that is a semblance of the love he so desperately desires. She and I look into one another’s eyes while he holds her, his own eyes closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

I feel an ache in the pit of my stomach and between my legs, wetness slicking my entrance and my thighs. I need to clean myself, breathe deeply, somehow fight down my own needs. Last night was about me. Tonight is for him. For my Master, the man I worship.

But Lisa sees my distress, and she reaches out to tug me a little closer. I allow myself to be moved.

“Relax, honey. Let me help.” Then her agile hand drops down to lift the hem of my nightgown and touch the petals of my body, gliding easily through the wetness. She is skilled and efficient, and within seconds I am gripping the sheets, my hips bucking uncontrollably. Master Strange’s eyes open, and he watches me as my nerves light up with dazzling erotic fire, only to explode a moment later. So powerful is the climax that my sharp cry turns into a moan. Gently, he moves Lisa away from him. She rolls over me to lie on my other side, and she reaches down again to hold my thighs apart as my Master touches me next. His damaged hands are not as agile as hers, but his touch means more to me. There is more vibrant tension between us. I climax again, gasping. Trying to beg and unable to speak. Lisa laughs softly, warmly, and he laughs with her. It is not a mocking sound. There is genuine love here.

My Master’s lips touch mine when he turns my head to him, and Lisa slides down my body to kiss my nether lips while the man I love most in the world kisses me deeply. I am trapped between them now, writhing in their grasp. His strong arms holding me down. Her nimble tongue dancing over my pearl of nerves. I would scream if I could, but his tongue is in my mouth and the sounds of desperation and agonizing pleasure are muffled. Again and again I am brought to the brink, until I am limp in their grip and my cries have turned to piteous whimpers. At last, mercifully, he touches her shoulder to stop the wondrous assault, and she moves up to shift her position once again.

We lie on either side of him, an arm around each of us, until finally a pull to duty moves me to rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom to draw a hot bath for the three of us. I emerge and pour three glasses of cold champagne, and I return to the bed to kiss Lisa’s bare shoulder.

“Come, Miss Lisa. Master. Come and have a bath.”

A few minutes later, I am handing them both glasses of champagne as they settle into the soothing water. I shyly climb in as well, nestling against his side. And his arm is around me again, holding me close. He tilts his own glass to my lips, and I drink.

“Was it everything you thought it would be, Pet?”

“And more, Master. I’ve learned what to do. My fear is very much lessened. Thank you for allowing me to witness this. And thank you, Miss Lisa, for teaching me so patiently.”

Lisa rubs my hip underwater with one smooth manicured foot, and she smiles.

“I’ve never trained anyone before. This was enjoyable. I’m almost sorry it will be for the last time.”

Master Strange kisses my temple, sighing. I close my eyes, just as exhausted as the two of them.

“With my Master’s permission, I don’t want it to be the last time. You’re every bit as wonderful as I’d always imagined. Maybe in the future, if you wish, you could return for a repeat performance.”

She seems surprised, but when she looks to the man at my side he nods as if to say ‘Whatever you both wish.’ I smile, reaching under water to clasp her foot in my hand and rub it.

“It would be an honor, you two. But I insist on not charging you.”

“And I insist on paying you at least once more.” Master Strange takes a sip of champagne and swirls the glass, watching the bubbles rise. “Before you leave tonight, Lisa, I will be issuing you a check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. To cover the cost of your graduate studies. The world of marine biology will gain a powerful voice in a few years. You shouldn’t have to sell your body to attain your degree. Well…now you won’t have to.”

At first, there’s just shocked silence.

Then Lisa is setting her glass aside and throwing herself into his arms with gratitude and enthusiasm. She kisses him, and for the first time, he allows her to do so. He returns the kiss without holding back. I move to the side to give them room. Lisa is in tears, kissing him again and again, so happy that she can hardly speak.

“You have no idea what this means to me, Doctor! My parents are poor. They wanted to help, but they couldn’t. My scholarships don’t cover the full amount. You’re giving me the most amazing gift I have ever received in my life! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you! I hated being an escort. Except for seeing you. That part was always a pleasure. But the rest? I won’t miss it. You’ve given me my life back!”

He hugs her against him and laughs, kissing her cheeks.

“You have already given me everything a man could want. Thank you for making me feel special this past year, and for being so kind to my Holly. If you have any additional expenses, I want you to let me know. Alright?”

“Yes! Yes, I will! God….thank you!”

I’m happy for her, and touched beyond belief at his generosity. While she expresses her gratitude, I step out of the tub and towel off, to change the bedspread and plump the pillows, light more incense and the candles, open the balcony doors to let in the cool night air. Master Strange is the next out of the bathroom, drying his hair, searching for his pajama bottoms. I place them in his hand, and kiss his bicep.

“Will Lisa be spending the night with us?”

“That would be a little hard to explain in the morning, don’t you think?”

“No, Master. You could open a portal right to her apartment. No one would be the wiser.”

He considers the idea for a moment, then nods as Lisa comes out of the bathroom too, wrapped in a towel. “I could do that. Yes. Lisa, would you like to spend the night? Here, in bed with the two of us. In the morning, I will get you home without being seen.”

She isn’t used to being asked to stay. Most of her clients use her services and then dismiss her. The invitation catches her off guard, and she looks surprised for a moment. Then she nods, touched.

“I’d love to! If neither of you mind, that is.”

“It was my idea.” I tell her. I move to the tray of food and assemble her a sandwich, bringing it to her wrapped in a napkin. She takes it with an exclamation of delight. I make one for my Master too, and bring it to him. He nods toward the open doors, and the night sky through them. 

“Would you like to sit on the balcony? It’s a beautiful night. Jupiter and Saturn are visible, and Mars to the east. There’s no Moon, they will be easy to see.”

“You know so much. Yes! I would love to sit out there with you two! Do you have something I could wear to bed?”

He opens his drawer, finding a pajama top for her, and it’s big enough to fall to her thighs. She wraps herself in it, kissing his cheek. I pull on my nightgown once again. Within a few minutes, we are seated in chairs on the porch, and Master Strange is telling us about the stars and planets in the sky above us. The cool night air dries our skin. The sandwiches fill our tummies. His voice is a deep, steady litany of the most interesting facts and stories we’ve ever heard. I watch the ragged clouds scudding across the horizon, billowy and beautiful in the starlight. And I know beyond any shred of doubt that I am in the right place. This is right. This is my destiny. I love this man. I love everything about him. There is no flaw in him, nothing that I want to change or argue with. Nothing.

The night grows colder, and at last Lisa announces that she is tired. She goes inside to climb into the large bed and snuggle under the covers, leaving Master Strange and I on the balcony. He gestures to me, and I move over to sit on his lap. Wordlessly summoned, Levi floats out of the bedroom to drape over us, warm and inexpressibly comfortable.

“I hope you’re not feeling jealous at all, Holly.”

“Horribly. This Cloak is your real soulmate.”

He chuckles and tucks a fold around my shoulders, cuddling me closer.

“I wish it could always be like this. You and I, and no tension or upset between us. I’m so sorry about earlier, with Emma.”

“That wasn’t your fault though. I let my doubt get the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

We’re quiet for a bit. Somewhere far off, a police siren wails. A dog barks. The elderly neighbors across the way and down are slow-dancing in their room, just visible from our vantage point. We watch them.

“Will that be us one day, do you think?” He asks me. There is hope in his voice, a naked vulnerability that no one else in the world save Wong and Clea ever get to see. To the rest of the multiverse, he is Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of Kamar Taj. Defender of the New York Sanctum, and of reality itself. Self-disciplined and unsmiling and powerful and unyielding. I know another side of him. I cup his cheek with my hand, kissing the other one and whispering in his ear.

“For as long as I live, yes. But you know you’re not going to age. Sometime in about forty years, I will start looking like your mother instead of your lover. I hope you will continue to allow me to serve you.”

“It’s a burden, not aging. I want the natural progression of life, a normal process.”

“The universe can’t afford it. You have to stay strong. I will keep on loving you until there’s nothing left of me. And if my astral form is able to slip free and not ascend to some higher plane, I’ll stay by your side even after death.”

“I’ve never tried to make love in astral form.”

“I’m willing to bet it’s possible. We’ll find out.”

He holds me for a while longer, watching the glittering lights of New York City on the distant horizon.

“Tomorrow is our last night. You’ll take me to that special place near your childhood home, I hope?”

“I’d like to do even more than that, sir. With your permission…I want you to meet my family.”

This seems to surprise him, but he hugs me and nods.

“Absolutely. I’d love to meet them.”

We make our way into the darkened bedroom a little while later, and I wait for him to extinguish the candles and get into bed before slipping under the covers beside him. Lisa awakens just long enough to kiss his cheek, then she’s asleep again in a matter of minutes. I lay in his arms for a long time, gradually drifting off to sleep as he lightly strokes my arm with his fingertips. It feels good.

“I love you with all of my heart, Stephen.”

He hugs me a little closer, his lips brushing my temple.

“I love you too.”


	13. The Council

My eyes open before sunrise, and I sit up in bed slowly to keep from waking the man and woman beside me. Master Strange is on his back, hair tousled and eyes closed, his lips slightly parted as he breathes. Lisa is curled up next to him, and her eyes slowly open as I slip from the bed. I meet her gaze and smile, holding a finger to my lips, and she smiles sleepily back.

In the dim light, I get dressed in my work clothes and comb my hair back into a braid. Gathering my nightgown and robe in my arms, and the empty tray from the night before. Then I am easing the bedroom door open and tiptoeing out, closing it securely behind me to give them privacy. I have a lot of work to do, and I can’t afford to be late for any of it. First, I stop by my bedroom to put my nightgown in the hamper and hang up my robe. Then I take the empty tray to the kitchen to wash everything and put it away. Ming isn’t even up yet. She’ll be down in another half hour to begin breakfast for the day. I start to peel potatoes for hash browns, thinking about last night. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.

“Morning, Holly.” Master Wong wanders into the kitchen, fully dressed, looking tired. I’m not used to seeing him up and about so early. Leaving the potatoes for the moment, I move to the stove to begin heating water for tea.

“Good morning, sir. You…don’t look like you’ve slept at all.”

“I haven’t.” He sits down at the table with a sigh, and when I bring him some fruit and fresh bread with butter he nods his thanks to me. I sit across from him to keep working on the potatoes. “After I finished getting the new students settled, I had to deal with the crisis of Emma being reassigned. She was angry at being dismissed from the New York Sanctum. I didn’t have a chance to speak with Stephen about what happened, but I have a feeling it wasn’t the story that Emma gave me. We might have a little trouble headed our way. I’m going to do what I can to mitigate it.”

“Oh God, what’s she said?”

Wong takes a bite out of a strawberry, shaking his head.

“Lies. I know Stephen better than anyone, and he’s not the type of man to make aggressive advances towards a young woman he’s only known a week. Emma said that he cornered her in his office and kissed her, touched her inappropriately. She was very convincing, but I knew it was garbage the moment she said it. Tried to talk her out of it, but she went to the Council. They’re meeting today to decide whether to open an inquest. I have to get a statement from Stephen, and from you, and from anyone else involved.”

My hands fumble with the potato, and it thumps onto the table.

“WHAT?! But that’s not what happened at ALL! She kissed him! And….and groped him! She came to me and told me this just yesterday afternoon, after her private lunch with Master Strange. He wanted to see her alone to make sure she wasn’t too upset by all the fighting!”

“He had lunch with her privately?”

“Yes, but….”

“That’s not gonna look good, Holly. Means he was the one who orchestrated their being alone together.”

“But….”

“We both know Stephen doesn’t treat his staff the way any other Master treats theirs. He’s really sweet with all of you. Hugging and kissing Amara, hugging Ming, helping Pasang when she’s gardening, letting you massage him and even bathe him.”

“I do those things of my own free will! He’s NEVER asked me to do anything inappropriate! And I’ve massaged you and bathed you before too, before Ming came! You know what it’s like! It is NOT sexual!”

Wong looks at me, and his expression is grim.

“You know that and I know that. But once the Council finds out, they’re going to read into it. Unfortunately, Emma happened to listen during those fights. She gave them an earful about Clea’s complaints. She told them about the scene in the bathroom where Clea hit you. She told them about how physically affectionate Stephen is with Amara.”

“She’s like a DAUGHTER to him! You hug her and kiss her cheeks too!”

“I’m not being accused here, Holly. He is. Big difference. We KNOW that he’s innocent of the shit Emma is saying about him. But it’s her word against his, and things are not looking good.”

I feel like throwing up. I get to my feet, the paring knife clenched in my hand.

“Let me talk to Emma. I’ll get her to see reason! She knows what she told me!”

“With a knife in your hand? Maybe not such a good idea.”

I hadn’t been aware of clutching it. Carefully, I put it down on the table and smooth my dress. Wong gets up, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m gonna go wake Stephen. Tell him about this and get his statement. He might want to go see the Council himself.”

“You should….wait a bit.”

He pauses, tilting his head at me. Then he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Of all the times….”

“It was my idea! I needed to…..I needed to learn.”

“HOLLY! Oh good God. You are going to get yourself KILLED! This not a game! Clea…”

“Is away! She’s gone until tomorrow! And after the situation with Emma happened, I got drunk with Ming and I didn’t go to him as I’d promised and he was upset with me and I earned a punishment and then I KNEW his passions would be aroused and I wanted to see what happens anyway so I called Lisa and had her come over and I watched them and she taught me a few things and then we took a bath and had some champagne and I made sandwiches.” It all comes pouring out at once. I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry. Tears form in my eyes anyway, and I all but throw myself into Master Wong’s arms. He rubs my back, stunned by what he’s heard. I know he is. I can see it in his face when I look up at him.

“Ok. I got one question.”

I sniffle, feeling light headed and scared.

“Go ahead and ask, sir.”

“What kind of sandwiches did you make?”

“Will you be serious?! Everything is going to come out now, isn’t it! Emma heard Clea screaming at him about the escorts. The Council….what’s the WORST they could do to him? Be honest.”

“Not much of anything. Not like they could strip him of his powers. Worst they could do? Assign someone else to this Sanctum and keep him under observation right there at Kamar Taj. It’s where the Sorcerer Supreme usually lived anyway. He’d still be in power, but he’d also be in disgrace. Can’t do anything else to him. No one would dare.”

“We have to stop this from happening then. The lies of a servant threaten to rip the lid right off of our lives here. Just wait. Don’t leave. Have some tea, eat something. I’ll fetch Master Strange and we’ll meet you down here in a little while. We will DEAL with this, Master Wong. If it takes the testimony of the entire household, then so be it! But we will handle this….this…..BULLSHIT!”

I have never uttered a swear word before. Master Wong looks impressed and shocked and even a little pleased. I don’t give him time to respond. Instead, I turn and run for the stairs.

I pause at the bedroom door, listening. If I hear so much as a gasp, I will wait outside the door for an hour and keep everyone else away. But there is silence. After a long pause, I push the door open and step into the cool dark.

My Master is not in bed, and neither is Lisa. Her purse is gone, too, and her shoes. The shower is running. I relax, and move to the bed to make it properly. Then I slip into the bathroom.

“Sir?”

The curtain twitches, and he opens it slightly.

“Holly? Are you alright?”

“No. Emma went to the Council. She made allegations against you, Master. Terrible, vicious, untrue allegations that the Council have taken seriously. Master Wong is just back. He fought for you, and will return to fight for you again after he takes your statement. I am to give a statement too.” I hesitate, coming forward to touch his wet shoulder. “I’m going with him to Kamar Taj to defend you.”

Master Strange lifts my wrist to his lips to kiss it, then tugs shut the curtain to finish showering.

“Pity for her that Levi was present for her indiscretions.”

I don’t understand the significance of this. My eyes flick to the doorway, and through it to where the Cloak hangs inert and resting on the cloak rack.

“Sir?”

“Relics are incapable of lying. The Council have ways to communicate with any relic, and to listen to what they have to say. Your concern is touching, but unnecessary.”

I let out a sigh of relief, closing my eyes. Leave it to my Master to always assure his protection. But another thought strikes me.

“Emma also overheard your arguments with Mistress Clea. They know about the escorts.”

“Accusations from a jealous wife against a neglected husband. Hearsay. Levi is always in the closet when I have company.”

“She told them that you cuddle and kiss Amara.”

“I won’t deny it. The child needs affection. I love the members of my household. I won’t have that love turned into something obscene and tawdry based on the word of a mentally unstable girl who has just been dismissed for inappropriate behavior.”

I turn to pull a clean towel from the rack and drape it over the radiator to heat, and I carefully lay out his comb, tooth brush, cologne bottle and electric shaver on the ledge beside the sink.

“How was Lisa this morning?”

“Ecstatic. Couldn’t believe it when I handed her the check. I suppose she half-expected it to be something just said in the heat of the moment. But I was quite serious. I gave it to her in an envelope, along with the name and phone number of a good friend of mine who works at Woods Hole. Getting an internship there is extremely challenging. She’ll have quite a leg up with this contact, just as long as her grades are above average.”

I sit down on top of the closed toilet seat, looking up at the latticework over the open window. The morning light is pouring in, accompanied by cold air. A little too cold to be comfortable. I stand up and crank the window closed, sealing in the heat.

“She was very kind. I’m glad to have spent time with her last night. And with you.”

The water shuts off, and I am at the side of the shower with the warmed towel in my hands an instant later. When the curtain opens, Master Strange reaches for the towel with a nod of thanks.

“Any regrets?”

“None, sir.”

The memory of what we shared comes forcefully back to me. The feel of him. The taste of him. The sound of his low groan of pleasure. I clear my throat and turn away from the enticing sight of him drying off his body.

“Master Wong is waiting for you in the kitchen. I’ll make a quick breakfast for you both, then we can all go to Kathmandu together. Get this settled before Mistress Clea returns. It’s a ludicrous charge, of course. Emma came to me herself and told me what truly happened. She kissed you. She groped you. She read into your kindness, and mistreated it for her own desires. I will attest to this.”

“You’re worried.”

“Of course I am, sir. I care about you. I won’t tolerate your reputation being tarnished.”

He wraps the towel around his waist and tucks it in, then reaches for his electric toothbrush.

Electric toothbrush. Electric shaver. The handles of things thicker, easier to grab. All the little ways in which I’ve tried to make life easier for him. His hands still shake. The scars are still there, pink and raw after his shower.

“There’s no need to be worried, Holly. Absolutely none. I’ve done nothing to bring shame to Kamar Taj, or to the position of Sorcerer Supreme. My performance has been exemplary, my morals have never been brought into question, and frankly……no one can do what I do. Kindly pass me the toothpaste.”

I do, and he begins to brush his teeth. There are still pockets of the adorable arrogance that punctuated the life of the man he was before the accident that rise to the surface from time to time. I don’t find them irritating in the least. It’s not empty boasting if you can back it up.

“I’ll go with you, sir.”

He takes a few minutes to answer, but after he rinses and wipes his mouth he responds.

“You’re welcome to, of course. You haven’t seen your friends there since Christmas, after all. And while this isn’t exactly a pleasure trip, there will be time to visit for you. The Council will want to speak to me privately after they’ve heard the evidence. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours. Then we can leave for your homeland when we come back.”

“Will my testimony be of value?”

“I imagine it will. She did come to you, after all. You would be truthfully relating the conversation. The Council knows that you do not lie well. You were trained right under their noses from an early age, and have served many of them in their turn. Best get ready then, Holly. Wear your finest work dress, white of course. You are head of staff, after all.”

“Yes sir. Shall I change now?”

He turns to me, and leans down to kiss both of my cheeks and my forehead.

“There might be dark days ahead, Holly, if you and I aren’t extremely discrete. My wife may have spies even among the staff. I highly doubt it’s one of the girls. Tenzin or Kaleb, one of them. Perhaps both of them. No male of any age can resist Clea. Watch yourself. Never let on to any servant save Ming what you and I are to one another.”

“I would never, Master. I wouldn’t want to bring shame on you.”

“I’m not ashamed of this. But I do worry for your safety. We need to be careful. Go change now, and tell Wong I’ll be down as soon as I’m dressed.”

“Yes sir.”

In my room, I wash my face in the basin and re-braid my hair, then pull on my best work dress as he requested. My face is white and scared in the mirror, but I touch on some blush to add a little color. And I take a few deep breaths.

There is nothing that Master Strange cannot handle.

I was here the day he stood in the foyer with the Axe of Angarruumus in his hands, grimly opening a portal to another realm filled with chaos and screaming and war, and stepped into it boldly. I was here when he returned four days later covered in blood, only a small portion of it his own.

I was here when he battled Nightmare. I was here for his second triumph over Dormammu. I was here for every fight, every contest of wills, every rescue mission, and all of the aftermath that followed. When bad dreams woke him alone in his room, gasping and sweaty, I was the one who answered the gold bell and brought him warm milk and cookies and a gentle voice in the night. I know what he can endure.

I have seen it.

Ten minutes later, I am stepping into the kitchen. Master Strange is seated at the table with Master Wong, and they are deep in conversation. I do not interrupt them, merely moving to the stove to begin cooking a decent breakfast for the men before they see the Council.

“Of course it’s horse shit. But you do have a few enemies on that Council who see only your skin color and not your character.”

“Ridiculous. Anyone can rise to the position of Sorcerer Supreme. There’s no racial attachment.”

“You know that and I know that. The Council? Not so much.”

“I’ll answer the charges and put the matter to rest. How’s Ming?”

“Perfect. Pretty and feisty. She has me on a diet. Could do without that part.”

“Ah well. What we do for the women we love.”

“Says the man with a six pack. I haven’t seen my abs since I was twelve.”

They are laughing, and the sound brings me comfort. If the Masters are enjoying joviality on the morning of a difficult meeting, then it must surely turn out well.

I set a plate of eggs and toast and sausage before each man, pouring hot water into warmed tea mugs to release the fragrance of the herbs trapped in silver mesh balls at the bottom. After they’ve steeped for thirty seconds, I drizzle in thick lavender honey and give each mug a stir, then step back to the corner of the kitchen to wait for them to finish breakfast. My hands clasped in front of me. Back straight. Eyes on the marble floor.

“Holly, grab a plate. Come join us.” Master Wong says suddenly, chewing a bite of toast.

I glance up. This is……new. My eyes move to Master Strange, and he nods once.

Shyly, I dish up another plate of scrambled eggs and a single sausage link, and I sit down at the table beside Master Wong. I have never been asked to join them before. My heart is filled with warmth as I begin to eat, small bites, listening to the men continue their conversation.

I nearly choke when Master Strange quietly addresses Wong.

“Clea will be leaving me soon. I’m certain of it.”

“Yeah, me too. You piss her off.”

“I’ve decided to take Holly as my lover in her place. But we’ll have to keep a lid on it. You know how the Council is.”

“Figured you would. I’m gonna take Ming as mine. No one better to be your everything than your personal servant, right? You’re a copycat.”

“So you and Ming are lovers now?”

“Not yet. Another three weeks, when she turns twenty. I won’t feel like such a dirty old man.”

“Seriously? You’re already a dirty old man. Three weeks won’t make a difference.”

“Yeah? And what are you? Have a good orgy last night?”

Master Strange casts him a look.

“I’m shocked at you, Wong. What a terrible thing to accuse a man of first thing in the morning.”

“I wait until noon then.”

Still chuckling, the men rise to their feet when breakfast is finished. Their lightness of spirit gives me hope that perhaps things won’t be too terrible when we face the Council. I take the plates to the sink and quickly wash them, stacking them in the plastic drying rack to allow them to air dry while we’re away. By the time I am done, Master Strange and Wong are in the foyer waiting for me to join them.

I do, and the portal is opened. Then we are stepping through it into the oppressive heat of Kathmandu. It is 6pm here, local time, and the sun is behind the mountains to the west. The left sides of the massive towering peaks of Everest, Nuptse and Lhotse glow with an orange light, rising out of the shadows. At once, the smell hits me, familiar and yet jarring to the senses after the pristine cleanliness of the Sanctum. Unwashed bodies, exotic spices, smog, incense smoke, human and animal waste, and over it all the petrichor scent of a recent rain. Wong and Master Strange, unperturbed by the change in air quality, seem completely fine as they walk through the courtyard toward the stone steps leading up to the Council building. I rub my nose, my eyes watering, and trot behind to catch up.

The students and masters are studying or resting after a day that began at dawn with training exercises. It is now the hour of the servants, who scrub the flagstones and sweep the steps and chat happily to one another in a variety of local languages. Several of them see me, and wave excitedly. I wave back, although it’s hard for me to force a smile. I am worried about the outcome of this meeting, and angry on behalf of my Master who has done no wrong.

People bow deeply to the Sorcerer Supreme as he passes, and he acknowledges them with a nod.

“You want us both in there with you right from the start?” Wong is asking. Master Strange shakes his head.

“Let me address them first, then they’ll undoubtedly send someone out to fetch you. Stay nearby, no telling when they’ll be ready.”

And then, without so much as hesitating, he lays a scarred hand against the double doors and pushes them forcefully open. There are eleven people gathered around a wooden table, speaking to one another animatedly, but they fall silent with shock when they see the leader of Kamar Taj stride boldly into the room. He folds his arms, fixing them all with a stare that must be somewhat intimidating, judging by the looks on their faces.

Then the door are swinging closed, and Wong and I are left on the steps.

A knot of servants rush up to embrace me before there is time for us to speak to one another. But what is there to say? I hug my old friends back, all of whom were trained with me in the days before I was transferred to the New York Sanctum. I remember them all fondly, and within minutes I am blushing and smiling shyly as they comment on my dress and hair and ask questions about New York City. Some of which I can actually answer now, having finally visited the city itself. Is it true that there are buildings as tall as mountains? Are there really over a million people? Is the Statue of Liberty as beautiful as she seems to be in pictures? I answer quietly, glancing back over my shoulder at the door a few times.

Someone brings Wong and I cups of fragrant tea with honey, and we sit down beside one another on the top step to drink it. The servants clustered around on the lower steps, still asking questions. How are the other servants at the Sanctum and how is Master Strange and is Clea still there and how much weight has Wong gained, exactly. They are laughing, pink-cheeked and happy and healthy and well treated. Punishments are rare, food is plentiful, and the work is not too terribly hard.

A half hour passes, then forty five minutes. And finally, the large wooden doors are opened. A wide-eyed servant comes out, beckoning to Wong and me.

“The Council wishes to see you now.” The young man tells us. We set our cups aside and get to our feet, exchanging a look. Wong looks calm and ready. I am pale with fear and nervousness, but those emotions vanish when I step into the room as swiftly as though a broom swept them out of my soul.

Master Strange is seated at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair, perfectly at ease. Levi floats before the table, clearly just having been debriefed somehow. A wizened old man narrows his eyes when he looks me over, and I smooth my dress with my hands and reach up to make sure my hair is immaculate.

“Holly Tremor. You have grown since last you stood in this room. You are a woman now.”

“I have just turned twenty, Master.” I bow, lowering my head with deference.

“You are aware of the serious charges being leveled against the Sorcerer Supreme?”

“I am, sir.”

“Then you will answer honestly when you are questioned. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Master Wong, you may sit. The relic may return to its Keeper.”

Levi gives a little shiver of annoyance, his mood crystal clear to one who has interacted with him as much as I have, and flies over to drape around the back of Master Strange’s chair.

I stand alone before them all now, the eyes of everyone in the room on me. I look to Master Strange, and he nods ever so slightly to me. There is strength in that gaze. I straighten my spine and lift my chin a notch, looking at the head Councilman evenly.

“I am ready to be questioned, sir.”

“Very good. Now, Miss Tremor, have you personally witnessed anything inappropriate occurring at the Sanctum?”

There is a petite silence, and Wong and Master Strange exchange a brief look. That the Council began with such an open ended question as this, so broad and so impossible to answer without getting very tangled up indeed, is a surprise. I take a deep breath.

“Yes sir.”

Shocked murmuring, and the head Councilman’s eyes all but twinkle with malicious delight. He even rubs his gnarled hands together.

“Did you now? Did you. And what have you seen that was inappropriate?”

I don’t look to Master Strange now. My voice grows a little stronger.

“I have seen the abuse of the staff at the hands of Mistress Clea. I have witnessed her strike our Sorcerer Supreme on no less than nineteen occasions. She struck me once as well. I have witnessed deep disrespect shown to Master Strange not only by his wife, but also coming from the servant Emma, who accused him of impropriety without cause. I have witnessed visitors to the Sanctum take advantage of my Master’s kindness and openly mock his attire, his position, and his history. And I have seen the most inappropriate behavior today, when the good name of Stephen Strange has been tarnished by gossip and unfounded accusations. This man whom you all have sworn loyalty to has been brought before the Council to face egregious charges levied at him by a mentally disturbed young woman who mistreated his kindness and then behaved petulantly when her affections were not returned. Rather than uphold your belief in the honor of my Master, you chose to believe his accuser. Frankly, this is the most appalling and inappropriate thing I have seen since the days of my training.”

Wong groans audibly, but Master Strange makes no sound or movement. I am not finished.

“Emma came to me directly after her sexual harassment of Master Strange, admitted to what she had done, and announced her intention to visit his private chambers to ‘offer herself’ to him. She admitted to being the aggressor. She said quite clearly that he mentioned twice that he needed to get her out of there. His purpose for the meeting with her was to apologize for the fighting that has been taking place at the Sanctum as of late. Not once has Master Strange ever behaved with anything but the highest level of ethical soundness. I see everything. Not a single thing happens in that Sanctum of which I am not aware.” I clasp my hands behind my back, digging my fingernails into my wrist brutally.

“He is just and merciful, affectionate with the staff but not sexual, protective and patient. He is loving towards his wife and has never abused her despite her behavior. He has never abused any member of his household. Despite what his wife has accused him of, he does not entertain prostitutes. He does not lie. He does not misuse his power for personal gain, nor does he misuse the Mystic Arts. That man seated rightfully at the head of your table is the most honorable man I have ever known in my life. If the Council wishes to reassign him to live here, then I will come with him. I will serve no other Master. No other is worthy. And now that I have given my testimony, I respectfully and humbly request that the Council issue a formal apology to the Sorcerer Supreme for their doubt. Thank you for hearing me.”

And with that, I bow deeply.

There is stunned silence. I glance at Wong, and I have never seen his eyes so round before. Beside him, Master Strange is looking at me with something in his expression that I have never seen before.

It is pride.

At long last, the head Councilman clears his throat. He is positively shaking with anger.

“Holly Tremor, for your impudence before this Council….”

It is Wong who speaks up, forcefully, guessing what the pronouncement is about to be.

“You lay a hand on her for punishment, gonna be the last thing you ever do. I will kill you myself.”

“It is not your place to intercede either for this servant OR for Master Strange! You are a librarian!”

“I was a warrior before I was a librarian. You want this fight? Let’s go. Piss me off, Sajit, see where it gets you. And she is Stephen’s personal attendant. Only he has the power to correct her. So go ahead, tell the Sorcerer Supreme to beat his own servant for defending him. This kangaroo court over with? Because we got a lot of things to accomplish. Allegations are clearly false. Levi told you. Holly told you. Stephen told you. I am telling you. What’s it take to get you to believe it? An act of Buddha?”

Master Strange rises to his feet, and Levi affixes himself to his shoulders. The Council are all silent now, looking warily at him as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I believe you’ve heard enough to make your decision. Whatever the Council decides…I will abide by it. This meeting is finished.”  
  
We gather in the courtyard, and Master Strange opens a portal to the Sanctum. He has said not a word to me. Wong keeps his arm around my shoulders until we are safely through and the portal is closed. Then he turns to me.

“What the hell were you THINKING?! Talking to them like that! You trying to die?!”

I lower my eyes under the onslaught of his anger.

“I simply spoke the truth.”

“You did not!” Wong whispers fiercely. “You said he doesn’t entertain prostitutes.”

“He doesn’t.” I fire back, looking up to meet his eyes. “They’re ESCORTS. There’s a DIFFERENCE.”

Wong is about to respond when the soft sound of Master Strange’s laughter breaks the stillness. He takes my hand in both of his, lifting it to his lips to kiss it.

“Leave her alone, Wong. Holly handled herself brilliantly in there. I doubt the Council will say a single word more on the matter. Levi’s testimony cleared me. Holly’s testimony made the entire room fall silent and feel ashamed. Now go on, you didn’t eat half of what you normally eat for breakfast. You have to be starving. Find Ming when you’re done. Tell her that she has the day off to spend with you. I’ll be gone tonight, visiting California with Holly.”

“You know they were gonna flog her.”

“Over your dead body, apparently. You were so noble, Wong. I’m impressed at your manliness.”

Wong huffs out a sigh and reaches out to hug me.

“Never let anything happen to our Holly. Alright. Have fun in California. We use your bath tub while you’re out.”

Master Strange shuts his eyes, shaking his head.

“Clean up when you’re done, is all I ask.”

Wong casts me one last reproachful look, then he’s mounting the stairs. And my Master and I are left alone in the foyer together. We wait until his footsteps have faded away completely. Then Master Strange looks down at me.

“You lied well.”

“As I said, it wasn’t a lie. And you really are the most honorable man I have ever known.”

“You spoke ill of Clea. This might get back to her.”

“Then I hope you have a lot of confidence in the strength of this enchanted necklace, sir. I couldn’t just let them talk about you that way. It was…..unseemly.”

He is still looking down at me with those beautiful blue green eyes, and I cannot help but lower my own gaze.

“Will that be all, sir? I have a great deal to attend to before we leave for California. There’s a host of chores to see to, especially with Ming having the day off.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re being impudent to the Council.”

“Thank you sir. You are very handsome when you’re being wildly inappropriate.”

He laughs softly, and touches my shoulder.

“Meet me right here in six hours. Bring an overnight bag. We will be staying with your family tonight. I hope they have room for me.”

My head comes up immediately, and I look at him in shock.

“You….want to stay with us? Yes! Yes of course they would have room for you, Master! The farm house is huge! Wait until you meet them, they will LOVE you! Uncle Lester in particular. He’s the family’s healer. You can talk medicine while I help to prepare dinner. They’ll like as not put you in a guest room, and me in my old room. But I’ll sneak up the stairs to you as soon as everyone’s in bed.”

“No need. I’ll appear in your bedroom silently enough. I want to see the room you grew up in.”

“You’d have to look to Kamar Taj then. I grew up there.”

He looks sad for a moment.

“I would give you back your childhood if I could, Holly. The very least I can do is promise you a beautiful future.”

He is tall and lordly in his blue robes and bright red Cloak, looking down at me here in the foyer of his dark and gothic mansion. I reach out to lift his left hand with both of mine, and I kiss the webwork of scars.

“Any future with you in it will be grand, no matter my position. Thank you, sir. You honor me.”

“Six hours, Holly.” He repeats softly, his deep voice tender.

Then he turns, mounting the stairs to the second floor. Headed for the library, and the ten thousand secrets that await him in books I haven’t the skill to read. I stand alone in the entryway for a few minutes, just thinking. And then I am off, trotting to the kitchen to set the staff to preparations for lunch. Then to the courtyard to refill the bird feeders. There are a million things to do, and only six hours to do them in.

One crisis has been averted. Another is coming, though.

In just half a day….Master Strange will be meeting my mother Glory.


	14. Tremorland

We meet in the foyer at 4pm. He is casually dressed this time, in dark blue jeans and a gray sweater. In preparation for seeing my family again, I too have changed out of my usual attire. Black leggings and a soft white shirt. My favorite color. My hair is still plaited down my back in a thick braid, and I am holding the requested overnight bag. I am more excited than I have words for, trying to dampen the sorrow in my chest that comes from the knowledge that this is our last night before Mistress Clea returns.

Master Strange also has a bag slung casually over his shoulder. He smiles slightly when he sees me, slipping on his Sling Ring.

“Are you ready to go? Have you got the image of your home clear in your mind? I’ll need to read it there to open the gateway.”

I nod, unable to keep the smile from my lips. This will be the first time I have physically been home in ten years, and I’m excited to see everyone. Even more excited to have them meet Master Strange for the first time. I’m bringing small gifts for the family, procured over the past few months and intended for Christmas. But this is even better.

There is a snap-hiss as the portal is opened before us. Deferentially, I allow him to enter first. He steps into the emerald green meadow beside my home, and I am right behind him. When the portal closes, I turn to look up at him, pink-cheeked with pure joy.

“This is it! This is home! Master, come on! Let’s get to the house!”

And I break into a run, bolting for the three story white farmhouse beside a massive willow tree. There is a familiar figure tilling the soil in the patchwork garden beside the home, and when I see him I give a cry of delight.

“UNCLE LESTER!”

He looks up. Then he is running too, dropping his rake and coming to me to wrap his arms around me and lift me right off the ground.

“Holly!!!! Holy jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick! If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes! Look at you!” He holds me at arm’s length, beaming. “You’ve shot up six inches and turned into a woman since I saw ya last! Ah hell, honey! I’m so happy, I’m about to motherfu….”

“May I introduce my employer, Doctor Stephen Strange?” I interject hastily, still clinging to Uncle Lester. He looks over my shoulder then, fixing his blue eyes on the figure of my Master, just now topping the rise.

“Your boss, is this? Alright then. We’ll treat him real special, baby girl.” Uncle Lester tells me softly. He waits, then, until the sorcerer is close enough to hug. Then my uncle reaches out to embrace him warmly. “Welcome, Doc! Any friend o’ Holly’s is an honored guest here! In her letters, she’s said nothin’ but good things about ya! Come on inside, outta the elements! We got a storm brewin’ to the west, gonna roll in from the sea round about nightfall. You are most welcome here. C’mon inside, meet the family. Her Momma is……comin’ our way, actually.”

For at that moment, a tiny figure is racing towards us through the corn field, disturbing the stalks as she moves. Making a beeline for me. I brace myself as all 97 pounds of my mother explode from the field, and she pounces on me and topples me to the grass. We roll together in a wordless embrace. Ten years. Ten years since I have hugged my mother. We talk on the phone, and I write letters, but this is the sweetest happiness I can imagine. I hug her just as fiercely as she hugs me. Finally, she stands up to sniff curiously at the new person on our land.

I rise to my feet, brushing planty debris from my shirt and regaining my composure.

“Master Strange, may I present my mother. This is Glory Tremor.”

“Pleased to meet you, Glory. Your daughter has been a delight since the moment she arrived. We’ve enjoyed…”

“Goddammit, Glory! What the hell are you eatin’?! I KNOW you ain’t been inside all day! Spit it out!” Lester comes forward, trying to grab her. But my mother evades him, chewing whatever she’s got in her mouth faster. Master Strange looks slightly taken aback, his eyebrows lifting. He looks at me, and I bite my lip and shrug. There’s really no way to explain this.

“That better not be another frog! You know they’re not clean critters!”

Mom swallows, grappling with Uncle Lester.

“They’re NUTRITIOUS!”

“They’re full o’ swamp water! You’re gonna have the bubbleguts, you keep eatin’ ‘em like candy!”

Mom stands perhaps five feet tall in her bare, muddy feet and stained yellow sundress. While Uncle Lester fusses over her, wiping at her mouth with his bandanna, the little forest imp turns to look up at my Master. They regard one another, both of them looking a touch wary.

“Are you really a wizard?”

“Yes, madam. Although the preferred term is Master of the Mystic Arts. Are you really Holly’s mother? You seem quite young.”

Mom rubs her nose with one hand, moving closer to look up at him. There are a few soft smile lines around her eyes now, and in her mane of dark curly hair are a few streaks of silver. But at first glance, her size and mannerisms and face really do make her look like my sister rather than my mother.

“I’m thirty seven. I had Holly when I was just a teenager. Her Daddy Jeeves is lots older than me. Maybe you can meet him too if he comes inside tonight. Mostly he sleeps out with the wolf pack.”

By her speech pattern, I can see it dawn on my Master that my mother may be a bit special. And so she is, but in the most endearing and wonderful way. She reaches up to hug him, much to his surprise. But after a moment, he puts his arms around her and bends down to lightly kiss her cheek.

“I like you. You’re tall and handsome and you smell nice. Much taller than you look in pictures. Thank you for protecting the world. I like it here.”

“It is an honor. Did you say that Holly’s father sleeps outside with a pack of wolves?”

“Yeah. He’s even more feral than me. Come on inside.” She takes his scarred hand in her tiny, muddy one and tugs him toward the house. “I’m kind of full from the frogs, but Lester is making meat loaf and that’s always good too.”

An hour later, there are eleven people around the big wooden table in the kitchen that I remember so well. At the head is the leader of our family, Darwin Tremor. To his right is Uncle Lester, though his chair is empty as he bustles about the kitchen to serve the meal. Beside his chair sits his beautiful Asian wife, Tsugi. On her other side is seated a massive brooding figure, staring at Master Strange with uncomfortable intensity. This is my father, Jeeves. Brought in from the forest by my mother, who sits beside him. Next to her is a quiet young woman with blue eyes. This is Roxy, my cousin and the adopted daughter of Darwin and his wife Red. Red is seated to the left of her husband, and beside her is my cousin Rose, Lester’s daughter. Next to Rose is a gorgeous redhead, who eyes my Master with open admiration and even desire. This is my infamous cousin Annie, firstborn daughter of Red and Darwin and the heir to the eventual leadership of the family. Right next to me is my favorite aunt, Maria Tremor, half-sister of Darwin and Lester and Jeeves. Across from her is Chastity, her blond hair back in a ponytail and her overalls a little dusty from working in the barn. Beside me, in a place of honor at the other head of the table, my Master is the subject of intense scrutiny. Everyone has questions. Everyone wants to know as much about him as he will share. Everyone wants to see him perform a little magic.

And everyone is pleased when he levitates the cutlery and fills the glasses with sweet red wine from nowhere. I am comfortable here, among these rustic and odd people. The meal is a merry one, made all the better by the friendly banter between the occupants of the table.

It is Annie, as usual, who causes me to blush with her boldness. Just as she did when we were children.

“How on Earth can you keep your hands off the man, Holly? Your boss is absolutely delicious. I’d be crawling all over him.” She says, and when Master Strange looks at her with mild surprise, she winks at him. I lower my eyes to my plate.

“Holly conducts herself with the highest standards of decorum and self discipline. I am very pleased with her.”

“She was a prude even when we were kids. Wouldn’t go skinny dipping, never snuck booze out of Daddy’s cabinet, didn’t wear short skirts. Probably still hasn’t even been kissed yet.” Annie tosses her mane of red hair, smirking. “I was the bad one. Do you like bad girls, Stephen?”

“Goddammit, Annie. Let the poor man enjoy his dinner.” Lester is finally sinking into his chair now that all the dishes have been brought to the table. Uncle Darwin is chuckling, amused at his daughter’s antics. Aunt Red looks embarrassed. But she’d never go so far as to apologize for her wild child’s behavior. The two have a tense relationship. Annie is a fighter, while her mother is soft and good natured.

“So what are Holly’s duties with you in New York, Doctor?” My Aunt Maria asks carefully. Out of the whole family, she and Uncle Lester were the most vocal against the village wise woman’s suggestion that I be sent away to improve the luck of the family. She’d openly called it hogwash, and tried to prevent it from happening. But Uncle Darwin’s word was law, and truth be told I didn’t mind in the least. I wanted to go, and see a completely new place and experience new things.

Master Strange takes a sip from his water glass and sets it down as the whole family leans forward slightly to hear his next words. They’re all curious.

“She decides her own duties, actually. Holly is the head of staff there, and she manages several others. But from what I have seen, there is very little that she does not do. She’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known. Cleaning, cooking, organizing. She does the laundry and washes the windows. She ushers in guests and tends to their needs. And she is indispensable as my personal attendant.” He smiles at me for a moment, and his eyes are warm. “I don’t know what we’d do without her. You have raised an extraordinary young lady. From what I have seen so far, this is a strong and very close family. It must have been difficult to see her go on to live across the country. But the Sanctum is only a phone call away, and we have methods of instantaneous travel, should any of you wish to visit the place for yourself.”

My heart swells with gratitude. Mom immediately gives a little cry of delight.

“I want to come! I’ve never been to New York before! I’d love to see your house! Do you have a pool?”

“Yes, on the third floor. And lots of rooms to explore. There is also a spectral dog that roams the halls at will. His name is Bats. A few of the servants also have pets, including two cats, a pair of hamsters and a ferret.”

At this, Mom looks like she’s ready to leap up from the table and immediately go with Master Strange anywhere. My father speaks, his deep slow voice rumbling in his chest.

“Some o’ the letters my Baby Bear sent home had real worryin’ stuff in ‘em. I didn’t understand it all. I don’t read so good. But Lester explained it to me. About keepin’ her purity an’ bein’ obedient an’ servin’ her masters an’ other things as sounded like slavery. You ain’t mean to her or nothin’, are you? She free to come an’ go? You pay her?”

“He’s very good to me, Dad. I promise.”

Master Strange touches my hand lightly, and I fall silent.

“Sir, I assure you that your daughter is safe and healthy. She is paid a wage more than twice what a normal domestic in New York is paid. She has two days a week off now. I have insisted on this. And Holly is not compelled to do anything that she does not wish to do.”

Master Strange pauses, looking around the table. His eyes meet Uncle Darwin’s, and though he still speaks to my father, he is focused on Darwin.

“Holly is deeply cherished. She is loved, in fact. By both Master Wong and myself. When she is ill, we care for her. When she is homesick, we arrange for telephone calls. If she is weary, we give her the day off. No servant of the Sanctum is more precious to me than your daughter. I give you my word as the Sorcerer Supreme…Holly is well treated and deeply appreciated. Anything she wishes will be granted to her. That is why we are here tonight. She wanted to see you. She wanted me to meet you. And I complied.”

Silence follows this proclamation. My Uncle Darwin breaks it.

“Y’all lovers?”

Master Strange does not look away.

“Not yet, Mr. Tremor.”

“But that’s gonna be a thing one day. Ain’t it.”

“With Holly’s full and unequivocal consent…yes. I love her.”

“Appreciate your honesty.”

“I see no reason to lie to her family about my intentions.”

Uncle Darwin does not look away from my Master, but he speaks to me.

“Holly honey, if you’re full….and I reckon you are about now, I’d like you to run on upstairs. Set up a guest room for your boss. Second floor, the Eastern corner. Best room we got. An’ in the meantime, I think I’d like to take a little walk with ya, Stephen. Get to know one another.”

It is a tense moment, but my Master handles it well. He wipes his goatee carefully with his napkin and rises to his feet, nodding to Uncle Darwin.

“But of course. I would consider it an honor.”

I clumsily get to my feet too, my hands feeling numb. But I do as I’m told without question, without comment. I climb the familiar wooden staircase and find my way to the bedroom in the east corner. What else can I do? I stand for a moment in the silent room, knowing that Master Strange and my protective Uncle are walking the grounds alone together, then I begin to make the bed with fresh sheets.

My mind is blank. Fear lurks in the shadows, and misgiving. I do not let them have their head. I do not let nervousness distract me.

I am plumping the pillows when Aunt Maria appears in the doorway, and steps into the room to help me adjust the comforter over the double bed.

“Thank you.” I say softly, not meeting her eyes.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Is he good to you, Holly?”

“He’s more than good to me. He’s perfection incarnate.”

“The papers say he’s married.”

“It’s not a happy marriage. We won’t consummate our relationship until it’s over.”

“Are you sure about this?”

We smooth out the wrinkles in the bedspread. I open the window to let in the fresh breeze, and I keep my back to her.

“I’m sure. I love him.”

“If you……know what you’re doing, then I approve. I don’t know about the others. I don’t know about your mother or your dad or Darwin. But if you’re happy, then I approve.”

Gratitude fills my chest, and I turn to face my Aunt.

“We haven’t made love. We’ve kissed. We’ve done other things. But we haven’t made love. I want to. I will. He’s who I choose. I love him and I want to be with him. Whether the family approves or not. I don’t belong to the family anymore, Aunt Maria. I belong to the Sanctum. I belong to Stephen.”

“Is he kind to you?”

“He is.”

“He’s a lot older than you are.”

“Twenty three years, yes. And I don’t care. I’ll catch up soon enough. He doesn’t age.”

Maria sighs. Then she comes to me and takes my face in her hands.

“Holly, I have never doubted your common sense or your moral compass. And if this is what you want, then I support it. He seems nice. He’s powerful. He’s wealthy. He’s well known and has an outstanding reputation. He’s cordial and deferential to your parents, and to Darwin. If this is what you truly desire, and you are what he desires, then I will talk to Lester and Darwin and Jeeves and Glory. I will win them over to your side if need be. What your heart wants, you will have. You’ve got me. You’ve always had me.”

Tears glisten in my eyes, and I hug her warmly.

“Thank you, Aunt Maria. I love you.”

The bedroom is made ready, and by the time Aunt Maria and I return to the kitchen, dessert is being served and Uncle Darwin and Stephen are back at the table. A short walk, then. A short threatening of bodily harm if my Master should hurt me, and a short assurance that no such action would ever be necessary. Master Strange winks at me, and warmth fills my chest. I had hoped fervently that he wouldn’t be offended by the interaction. Of course no one in this family would have a prayer of harming him. No one on this planet is really up to the task.

Not even twenty minutes later, brandy is being passed around and cherry cobbler consumed. My mother is seated on Dad’s lap, feeding him bites of the sticky treat and giggling. Uncle Lester compels me to help him with the dishes. Mom’s pet racoon, Fluffkins, hoovers up the scraps on the floor. Roxy is singing as she washes the table. Uncle Darwin is smiling. All is at peace.

Everything seems to be alright. My odd family is even being somewhat well behaved, for them. They surround Master Strange happily, listening attentively when he speaks and speaking freely to him. By the time I am finished with the dishes, they are all seated in the living room. Talking to one another and fully relaxed. I move into the warm firelit room and sink down onto the sofa next to Uncle Lester.

“If you get married, I want to be the flower girl.” My mother announces. I blush and look at the carpet, smiling and pleased. Master Strange laughs softly.

“What a wondrous and interesting woman you are, Glory Tremor. Very different from your daughter, but no less charming.”

“Thanks! Most people in town don’t call me charming. They think I’m retarded.” She frowns, sliding out of her chair to sit cross legged on the floor. Fluffkins wanders over to her, chittering softly, and she pets his thick fur while she talks. “I’m not retarded. I hate that word. Jeeves isn’t retarded either.”

“Well that’s kinda up for debate.” Darwin chuckles. Lester points a tattooed finger at him, the articulated bones inked down his forearms and hands looking dark and menacing in the lamplight.

“You leave Jeevesie alone, goddammit.” He says firmly. Then he sighs and turns to Master Strange. “Our baby brother’s a good boy. Just a little special is all. Reckon he’s about eighty-five percent wild animal. Little Glory here, she’s right up around ninety. Shoots up to a hundred round about bath time.”

“I don’t like baths.” Mom’s voice is low, and she narrows her large brown eyes at the mere mention of such an affront.

“Gonna have to give you one tonight, like it or not.”

“You and what army?! You still didn’t heal from the last time I bit you. Are you really ready for round two?!”

I close my eyes for a moment. Mortified. But when I open them and glance at Master Strange, he is smiling very slightly, amused at the spectacle.

“Lester, if I may make a suggestion?”

“Sure thing.”

“Perhaps madam Glory would be more amenable to bathing if was….her idea.”

“Well shit, that ain’t never gonna ha…”

Mom blinks, looking a little dazed, and then climbs to her tiny feet.

“Bath?” She says faintly. Lester looks utterly mystified for a moment, and every eye in the room is drawn to the small curly-haired woman as she turns and begins moving somewhat mechanically toward the stairs.

“Holy Moses in a pickle patch! Doc, whatever you’re doin’ to her, keep it up! Only need about a half hour! C’mon, Tidbit honey, let’s get you in the tub. Scrub the frog slime off ya.”

He takes her hand, bustling her hurriedly out of the room before whatever glorious spell that my Master has cast upon her wears off. Darwin slaps his knee, laughing.

“You oughtta come round more often, Stephen. Ha!”

“I’d better help him.” Maria gets up to follow, but not before shooting a slightly reproachful look at Master Strange. I understand her annoyance. Casting a spell on an unwilling participant without permission is a touch over the line. But this whole house has seen the weekly mayhem that occurs when my mother is compelled to get cleaned up. Her sudden docility is nothing short of a miracle. After a few minutes, we can hear water filling the upstairs tub, and Lester and Maria fussing over Mom to get her undressed.

“Did you put a curse all up in my wife’s brains?” Dad asks, closing his ham-sized fists.

“No, not a curse. And the effects will not be permanent. It will wear off within the hour, depending on how strong her mind is.”

“She was filthy as all get out, Jeeves. Simmer on down. You could use a wash yourself after runnin’ wild all day.”

“I take my own baths, Darwin. Imma wash up before bed.”

“Sleepin’ in the house tonight?”

“Yeah.” He looks at Master Strange, his blue eyes intense. And it’s clear that he wants to make sure his baby girl doesn’t get up to any funny business with the mind-controlling wizard who is watching all of this with his hands placidly folded in his lap.

We chat. Uncle Darwin catches me up on the health of the crops and the animals. Aunt Rose tells me all about her newly built leatherworking shed. Aunt Roxy has been seeing a young man from the nearby Native American reservation, and she is aglow with new love. Aunt Chastity brings me up to speed on the latest car she’s been working on. Annie just got out of jail for the third time, and she proudly shows off her first prison tattoo; a heart with the word ‘Daddy’ inked inside it. Darwin smirks, opening a fresh beer, and there’s pride in his eyes. Through it all, Aunt Tsugi sits with her usual attentive silence, taking it all in. Listening. Always listening.

Late afternoon turns into evening, and at long last the members of the household begin to disperse. Roxy wants to call her boyfriend. Rose is ready for her usual nightly prowl of the lands. Uncle Lester and Aunt Maria reappear with my mother, who is dressed in fresh pajamas with her abundant hair in two braids. She’s never looked cleaner, or been more docile. There’s a pleasant sense of never having left this place, and I relish every moment of it.

“You two should check out the orchard before the storm hits. Lookin’ real good lately, we got a mighty abundant crop comin’. The blossoms are thicker than ever.” Uncle Darwin suggests, getting to his feet. Aunt Red stands up too, heading to the kitchen to fetch us a pair of coats against the spring chill.

“Sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ve never actually seen an orchard in the spring.”

“Ain’t no curfew here, nothin’ to worry about on the grounds. The wolves all know us as friends, an’ the one bear we got roamin’ the woods is mighty fond o’ Glory. His name’s Benjamin. Practically tame. Have fun out there.”

We accept the coats in the kitchen by the door, and Aunt Red hugs me. Her voice is quiet. She looks more careworn and tired than I remember, but her embrace is warm and loving.

“It’s so amazing to see how you’ve grown, Holly. You were a sweet little girl just yesterday, it seems. Now look at you, a perfect young lady. I’m glad you got out. Had a chance to grow up somewhere far away.”

“Have things been hard here?”

She hesitates, looking over my shoulder. Then up at my Master. He meets her eyes and gives a gentle nod. Something passes between them, some sympathy or understanding, and she visibly relaxes.

“Darwin’s been taking on more jobs lately, bringing Jeeves with him. Lester says he’s retired, can’t bear the blood and violence anymore. He just wants to settle down and live quietly as a farmer.”

Ice fills my chest, and I look to Master Strange. Does he know my family’s violent reputation, as mercenaries for hire? He doesn’t react with shock or horror at Red’s words. Instead, he takes her hand in both of his. I’m a little surprised at the intimacy of the gesture. But Aunt Red absolutely melts. Tears fill her eyes.

“Keep Holly safe. It’s too late for Annie, I’m afraid. She’s exactly like her father, she relishes the work. I never expected my only daughter to have a kill count. It’s for the best that Holly wasn’t raised here. With her father being so fierce, and my little sister Glory being…the way she is…Darwin had high hopes for their offspring. But Holly would never have been able to bear it. She’s more like her Uncle Lester. Gentle. Hardworking. A good soul. Not that my husband isn’t good. He’s amazing, I love him with all my heart. But his lifestyle takes a toll on me. I worry constantly.”

“Mrs. Tremor, I can assure you that Holly is in the safest place in the world.”

I think about Clea, but I say nothing. Aunt Red sighs, and hugs me again.

A little while later we are crossing the field together. I wait until we’re well out of earshot of anyone at the house before speaking.

“I know they’re a little rustic, but I swear we’re not just your average white trash family. And it’s only Daddy and Uncle Darwin and Annie who…well, I guess you know already. I hope you’re not offended and horrified.”

“Not at all. I’m no stranger to violence. Though I’m a bit curious as to how you would have turned out if you’d stayed here instead of being raised at Kamar Taj.”

“Probably the same as the rest, I suppose. Working the farm, feeding the animals and picking fruit, milking the cow. Maybe marry some boy from town and have children. I would have had a quiet life. A simple life.”

“I meant whether you would have embraced a violent lifestyle eventually. The pressure to follow in your father’s footsteps must have been intense.”

“Uncle Lester protected me from that sort of thing. He’s the healer for the family. He did his best to usher me out of the room when Daddy or Uncle Darwin would come home with bullets in them, or other wounds. But I saw things a child shouldn’t see. Annie was fascinated. I was saddened. I think I probably would have become the apprentice healer to the family. To help them in the only way I really could.”

“Do you regret leaving?”

I reach out and take his hand, and I gently give his fingers a squeeze.

“Absolutely not, Master. I don’t want this life. I want a wildly complicated, dangerous existence wherein I’m in love with my boss and courting death at the hands of a sorceress from another world.”

“You make it sound so exciting.”

“Oh, quite. And I didn’t even tell you the best part.”

“Which is?”

“That he’s kind enough to bring me back to visit my roots on occasion. I really do appreciate this, you know. It means a lot to me, that you’ve met them all and they got to meet you. Thank you so much. You were simply wonderful to them, even though I’m sure they’re not the kind of people you ever imagined you’d be associated with.”

“I feel blessed that your mother didn’t see fit to bite me.” He laughs, lifting my hand to his lips to kiss it. I pause right here in the middle of the meadow and look up at him, my heart swelling in my chest.

“Aunt Maria said she’ll defend our relationship if it comes down to it.”

“That’s very kind of her.”

“Did…did Uncle Darwin threaten you? When you two took a walk after dinner?”

We begin moving toward the orchard again, our hands still clasped.

“He did, yes. It wasn’t even subtle. He flat out told me that he’d find a way to kill me if I ever harmed you. I was touched by his loyalty.”

“And how did you react?”

Master Strange smiles slightly.

“I told him that if I ever harmed you, I would personally submit myself to his judgment. I’m safe, as I have zero intention of ever causing you pain. I’ve been honest with you, Holly. Things are going to be difficult when Clea returns, but the troubles will pass. If we can get through these next few months, it will be worth it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“He really would try to kill you.”

“That would be remarkably ambitious of him.”

We’ve reached the edge of the orchard. I take his other hand in mine too, drawing him out of the moonlight and beneath the leafy canopy of the trees and the fragrant blossoms. I reach up to touch his cheek.

“I’m not worried for me. I’m afraid for you. Not for your safety, but for your heart. You still love her. This is going to hurt, when she leaves. Master, if you decide that you want to stay with her…”

“Holly, no.” He removes my hand from his cheek and presses my palm to his chest. I can feel his heart beating, steady and strong. “There are things that I need, that I have always needed and wanted, that Clea can’t provide. And her behavior has been appalling, especially lately. I don’t think she loves me anymore, or at least not like she used to. You do love me. You are obedient and submissive. You’re beautiful, and sweet and innocent and everything that any man could wish for.”

“I’m plain, Master. Compared to your wife, I’m nothing.”

“As I’ve told you, appearance is just one aspect of attraction. And stop comparing yourself to Clea. You are beautiful in your own right. I find you attractive. Perhaps I have not told you this enough. But you’re beautiful, Holly. You are absolutely exquisite.” He traces a finger down my cheek, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Porcelain skin. Long honey colored hair. Large hazel green eyes. The beauty and curiosity of your mother, an inner core of strength like your father. Raised to serve, to please. And genuinely eager to do these things. You are everything I desire. And tonight, out here in a moonlit orchard in California with a beautiful young lady…this is more magical than any date I’ve ever been on before in my life.”

Maybe it’s the calm night air or the way the starlight peeks through the clouds here and there as they sweep moodily overhead. Maybe it’s the wine I had with dinner, or the joy of seeing my family again. But the tall sorcerer in front of me is impossible to resist. I always find my decorum and modesty challenged when we’re alone together. I slip my arms around his waist as he hugs me against his chest.

“When we go back to the house, you’ll be expected to sleep in the guest room of course. But come to me if you’d like, when the family is asleep. I want to show you my bedroom.”

“I’d love to see it. I hope you’ll consider me a silver medal next to the nameless boy from town you intended to marry.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re second place.”

He reaches up for an apple blossom, hanging above us from the gnarled branch of the tree in the dark. Tenderly, he brushes its petals across my lips, then tucks it into my hair.

“I am nothing if not bold, Holly.”

There is a distant rumble of thunder from out across the hills. This orchard has grown even more in the ten years I’ve been away. The trees are laden with blossoms, and at the touch of the wind several of them spiral down around us like snow. I think about the ivy vines, and the glowing lights he conjured for me on our first official date. Now, we are in a place I am deeply familiar with. It’s my turn to impress him.

“Come with me. There’s someplace I’d like to show you.”

“Lead on, little mouse.”

The path is still there, and it’s been well groomed and cared for. My mother’s doing, surely. Which means that the tree house has undoubtedly been well cared for too. Our feet make no sound in the thick, deep grass as we walk beneath the apple trees. Soon enough, they give way to orange trees, and new blossoms billow around us in the breeze pushed ahead of the coming storm. The air is filled with their perfume. At the edge of the orange grove stands a massive oak tree, its lower branches thicker than a grown man’s body. There are boards nailed to the huge trunk, several of them fresh. Yes, this sacred place has been visited and cared for. I take hold of a board and tug, finding it sturdy enough to hold our weight. And I glance back over my shoulder at Master Strange.

“This is the place I would come to as a child. My father built it. I wanted to show you my treehouse.”

He smiles, coming closer, and there is actually a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

“My father would never have allowed such a thing in our manicured trees. He was terribly strict, and very focused on appearances. A treehouse would have decreased the property value. I always wanted one, though.”

“Well now you have one. Whatever is mine, I give it freely to you. Come up and see.”

I begin to climb. And rather than levitate or portal to the structure at the top, he actually takes hold of the ladder and climbs up after me. We reach the square trap door at the bottom of the treehouse after a few minutes, both of us out of breath and exhilarated by the dizzying height. We are a good thirty feet above the ground. I ease the door up, and it opens soundlessly on oiled hinges. Then I am scrambling onto the warm wooden floorboards, turning immediately to help him up too. I shut the trap door and latch it, sealing us safely here in my palace above the world. My hands reach out in the darkness, searching for the walls. There is a shelf that I remember well, and on it…..yes.

“Half a moment.” I tell him, then there’s a flare of firelight in the darkness as I strike a wooden match and light a few candle stumps. Nothing in here is dusty. Nothing is damaged. The windows are shuttered, and by the light of the candles I open them to let in the moonlight as well. Some of Mom’s toys are scattered here and there. No wonder the place is in such good condition.

“This place is perfect, Holly. Thank you for bringing me here.” Master Strange is looking around with enchantment, delight plain on his face. I feel immensely happy that I could actually impress the Sorcerer Supreme. There are pillows here, and books and cans of soda. A small folding telescope for stargazing. Blankets. I spread one out on the floor and tug on his hand to come and sit with me by the open window. The tree sways gently, but it is far too sturdy and this structure far too well made for us to be in danger. Down below us on the ground, there are the flitting shadows of a few wolves trotting past, attracted by our scent. I reach for a package of beef jerky and rip it open, tossing down a few handfuls for them to nibble on. I’ve grown up around these creatures, and I don’t fear them. Uncle Darwin keeps them well fed, and they know the family. Together, my Master and I watch the animals gather round to eat the fallen cured meat.

“They’re beautiful. I’ve even seen their alpha a few times. His name is Bullet, and his alpha female is named Beretta. Uncle Darwin has taken care of the pack for well over a decade.”

“I have never in my life met a girl with pet wolves before.”

“Oh they’re not pets. Far from it. They won’t let you get too close. Well, not me at any rate. My father can pet them, and they seem to love Mom too. They let her play with the pups. They’ve never attacked us. People have terrible misconceptions about wolves.”

“And about wizards.” He sighs, resting his elbows on the frame. “Such a derogatory term. But I put up with it. And the cracks about rabbits and hats and balloon animals and all the rest of the nonsense.”

“Are you saying you can’t pull a rabbit out of a hat?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can.”

I giggle a little at that, and he pulls me into his arms and kisses my laughing mouth until I am wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back with fervor. We lie down together on the blanket, surrounded by the scent of apple and orange blossoms and pine trees and rain-touched wind. I remember the pleasure we shared last night, how powerful and perfect it was, and I stroke the silver hair at his right temple when he leans up to look down at me.

“Let me please you. Here, in the treehouse.”

“How scandalous. We need to behave in front of the wolves.”

“They can’t see from way down there. And no one else would come close without you knowing it. You can feel where every single person in the house is right now, can’t you.”

“Yes. Everyone appears to be inside except your cousin Rose, who is in some sort of shed near the perimeter of the yard. We’re quite safe.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” I whisper, shyly drawing him down to kiss me again. He is gentle with me, respectful. Quite different from the rough passion I witnessed with Lisa. I lovingly push at his chest until he lies down on his back on the blanket, his head against the pillows. Then I am up on my knees, reaching for the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Holly, you absolutely do not have to…”

“I know. I want to. I’m not your wife, I don’t find it beneath me. It’s an honor, and I love you.”

He hesitates, his hand on my wrist. But the night is like velvet all around us, and the wolves below are barking and growling to one another, and the Moon is still sailing free of the oncoming clouds. And we are here together in a place I used to spend hours alone in, dreaming. He is perfect and beautiful. I unfasten his pants, and he does not stop me as I lower them slightly. Just enough.

Lisa’s instructions come back to me.

Mind my teeth. Be gentle. Be thorough. Use my tongue. Caress his body with my hands as I pleasure him. Pay attention to his breathing, his sighs, his moans. Let him guide me.

My lips are warm against his hard length, and he shivers under my hands. I take immense pride in this. I am able to make the great Stephen Strange shiver.

Slowly, I ease him into my mouth. Wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft to hold him steady. Moving up and down at a slow and steady rhythm. Letting him feel every movement.

“Holly…..God….”

His breathing is erratic now, and his hands touch the back of my head.

It is still and peaceful here. Only his breathing, the wind, the thunder, the wolves, the rustle of the leaves outside. I spent so many hours in this treehouse by myself, reading or writing little poems or daydreaming about some future wedding to a handsome prince. I move one hand to his stomach, under his shirt, just to feel the warmth of his skin against my palm. There is nothing about this man that I do not love. All the fear ahead is nothing. The jealousy…nothing. The pain of our first lovemaking…nothing.

The necessity of hiding in the shadows because I will never be seen as worthy of him by the Council, or by the world at large…nothing.

I move the way that Lisa told me to move. I treat him as though his body were made of diamonds and gold. He puts his hand on top of mine, our fingers interlaced. This is intimacy, almost as powerfully intimate and special as the act we have avoided so far. I wonder how badly it will hurt when it happens. He is not a small man, and I am completely new. But I trust him. I trust him to be gentle and patient with me, to treat me as though _my_ body was made of diamonds and gold too.

The rhythm of his breathing and the way his stomach muscles tense tell me that he is nearing the apex of passion. I keep moving slowly, steadily, letting his pleasure rise in intensity. _‘Don’t speed up. You’ll want to, you’ll want to give into the frenzy of the moment. But it will be more powerful for him if you don’t. Let his climax come to you. Don’t rush it.’_

Her words echo in my head. His hand is gripping my hair, not guiding my rhythm but simply holding onto me. His other hand tightens on mine. The rest of the universe seems to melt into meaninglessness all around us. Any second now, my Master will reach the crest. And it is because of me. Only me. No one else is here. This is the first time. How fitting, how beautiful that it should be here in this place where I was once just a lonely child.

“Holly.” He whispers, and then it is happening. He gasps, his hips bucking, and I feel a surge of joy and gratitude that he is allowing me to do this, to be with him like this. There are literally millions of women who would give their lives for even a fraction of what we have shared. And out of all of them, I am here.

I help him to right his clothing, and we cuddle together on the blanket and listen to the distant thunder. His heartbeat is still elevated, I can feel it against my cheek on his chest. We are quiet, saying nothing for a little while. Then his deep voice softly breaks the silence.

“Your family seems very loving. Quite the opposite of mine. My mother was kind, and I was close to my brother and younger sister. But my father was abusive. Not in a reckless, drunken way. He insisted on perfection, he was obsessed with attaining money and power. God help you if you brought home anything less than an A+, or failed in any way, or developed an interest in something he found foolish. My brother Vincent was forever incurring beatings for his grades. I didn’t have that problem. But my father belittled my interests, made me feel like a fool, never showed any sort of love or affection or pride. Not even when I graduated from medical school at such a young age.”

“That must have been horrible and isolating. Everyone desires the approval and love of their parents.”

He sighs, hugging me a little closer.

“I buried it. I focused on work, on money and fame and being the best in my field. I was an asshole. You wouldn’t have liked me much back then. You’ve never asked me about my scars, but I know you’ve probably heard the story. An auto accident. I truly thought I would die. Then, as I healed and the true magnitude of what I’d lost dawned on me, I wished I had.”

“I would have loved you even then, Stephen. You might not have been in the right place to love me, though.”

“I was too blinded by my own ego to love anyone except myself. I’m very glad we met when we did, Holly.”

“I am too. Although I’m sorry you had to go through so much pain.”

“It was eminently worth it. I’ve achieved more now than I ever thought possible.”

There’s a pattering of rain on the roof of the treehouse. A few droplets are blown through the window, cooling the sweat on his brow. I smooth away the droplets with my fingertips, propping myself up on one elbow to look down at him. His eyes, blue in the scant moonlight, open and look into mine.

I stroke his hair, just meeting that intelligent, patient gaze for a long time. So much strength, so much power, so much sorrow, so much determination. The Master I have served for eight years. Bathed and cooked for and comforted and cleaned up after and cared for. My heart is too large for my chest.

I lower my head and kiss him.

“We should get back to the house. Now that it’s raining they’ll be expecting us.”

“A few minutes more. I’ll portal us to the porch.”

“You brought your Sling Ring?”

“It’s in my pocket.”

“I thought you were just happy to see me.”

“Cheeky girl.” He chuckles, and then kisses me again.

It is three hours later, when I am in my bedroom and the house is still, that a fiery gateway opens before my closet door. Master Strange steps out, dressed in his pajamas. Wordlessly, I pull back the blankets to invite him to join me. Under the covers in the warmth and lavender perfume of my bed, he takes me into his arms and kisses me deeply.

I embrace him, reaching down to undo the buttons of his top. Easing the garment over his bare shoulders and down his arms, with his help. We fumble with one another, laughing softly, kissing, until we are both naked. Naked, here in the bed that I have not occupied since I was ten years old. The room is unchanged. The walls are still yellow flowers on a cream background, the bedding still comprised of yellow roses and white lace, the night light is still burning in the corner. I draw my future lover fully on top of me, and we are quiet in this moment.

Gently, he reaches down between my thighs to caress me there, in that secret place that will be his and only his one day.

“I want you.” I whisper.

“I know. I want you too, Holly.”

We kiss, and I also slide my hand down his side to move inward, stroking my fingertips along his length. He groans against my lips, and I shiver.

“God, Holly. You are too much temptation. We have to stop. Show me your books, your toys, what you loved as a child. Show me your past.” He whispers. I close my eyes, feeling his fingers still gliding through the wetness of my womanhood. He does not stop. Even when I reach beside me for a cherished teddy bear of my youth, he only moves his body off of mine, still touching me intimately.

“This is….this is Sebastian.”

“Hello, Sebastian.”

“Master, your hand…..”

“Shhhh.” His lips are on mine again. Too hot now, I push the blankets down and away, and when we break apart I lean up to watch him touching me. The white lighthouse night light shines upon us from the nightstand, illuminating my thighs and making the scars on his hand appear silvery. The feeling is rising, and my breath is coming in short gasps.

“What happened to ‘we have to stop’?” I tease him softly. He sighs and moves his hand to my hip, resting his forehead on my shoulder for a moment.

“Mmmm, I suppose so. Alright. The clandestine tour of my Holly’s childhood bedroom, then.”

I smile at him and slip out of bed, still naked but covered partly by my long hair. I walk to the book shelf as he tugs on his pajama bottoms and gets up, coming to stand behind me and wrap his arms around my shoulders.

“These are the books I loved when I was ten. The Hobbit, The Chronicles of Narnia, Watership Down, Anne of Green Gables, and all of the Little House on the Prairie books.”

“Very different from the books I read as a child. Mine were mostly scientific tomes chosen by my father.”

“You never got to pick your own books?”

“Not until I was an adult, out on my own. I believe the first book I bought that wasn’t a textbook was The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. I quite enjoyed it.”

“I have that one too!” I lean down and slide out the book, holding it up in triumph. This commonality makes me extremely happy.

“It’s been years since I’ve read it. I don’t know whatever happened to my copy. Lost in a move at some point.” He turns the book over in his hands, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Take mine. I made notes in some of the margins, I’m afraid. Things I was thinking at the time. And take this too.” I kneel and select another slim paperback. “It’s also by Bradbury. You’ll like it, there’s magic. ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes’.”

I hand him the second book, and he touches my cheek.

“You’re very generous. Thank you. I’ll take excellent care of them.”

I blush, pleased to be able to bestow gifts upon the man who has given me so much.

“Would you like to see my dollhouse?”

“Of course. Let’s have the grand tour.”

We sit on the floor together, and I open the wooden house and fumble with the plug. The Christmas lights that Uncle Lester stapled to the ceiling in each little room illuminate the tableau before us. The furniture and the dolls are not store-bought. All of them are handmade, and therefore deeply precious. He gently picks up a small figurine, her limbs carved from wood and affixed to her wooden body with tiny nails, her head a wooden bead and her hair made from soft honey colored wool. Her handmade dress has tiny yellow flowers on a brown background, and she is even wearing miniscule leather boots.

“This is remarkable!”

“Thank you. I made everything myself. Except the house and the lights, of course. But all the furnishings and the dolls are all my handiwork. It took me a long time.”

He looks at me with admiration.

“What a surgeon you would have made. And still could, if you wished it. The education would be grueling, but I would help you.”

I don’t even know what to say to this. Amazement crosses my features.

“Me?”

“Yes. The needlework, the details, the steadiness of hand needed to create each piece? This takes incredibly steady hands, Holly. You have a sharp mind and a great deal of self discipline and curiosity. Blood and injuries don’t upset you, you’ve seen plenty of both. You could be quite a doctor.”

To be told this at all would have shocked me. But to hear it from the world’s greatest surgeon? My mind reels.

“I…I only have a high school education.”

“And? I know people who have gone back to school in their fifties. If we enrolled you in a four-year university next fall, you could be a surgeon before the age of thirty five. I would pay for your tuition, of course.”

My eyes are wide. I just look at him, the left side of his face lit by the tiny lights of the dollhouse’s interior. I will never forget this moment for the rest of my life. The rain against the windowpane, the dollhouse, the familiar lavender-vanilla scent of my bedroom, the bare chested man beside me with patient expectation on his face.

“But…I wouldn’t be your servant anymore. And that’s all I want to be.”

“You could still serve in and around your classes and your internship. And you would still live at the Sanctum.”

“I’m not smart enough…”

“Nonsense. I’ve known you for eight years. If you were dull or even average I would know it. You are neither. I think you could handle medical school.”

“Are you asking this of me, Master?”

“No. This has to be your decision completely. I would never force you to take a path that you didn’t one hundred percent want to take.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing for now. But keep the thought in mind. The possibility. I wouldn’t love you any less. We would still have one another in every meaningful way. You would simply have two jobs.”

“I don’t want to be away from your side.”

“You wouldn’t be for long. Every night, you would still sleep in my arms. I would help you study. I would quiz you, guide you, mentor you, tell you of techniques that your classmates may not even know about. But think about it for a while. Take as long as you like.”

“I…I will. Thank you, sir.”

He places the doll reverently in my hands, folding them around her and cupping them with his own. I look down at the sight of his scarred, irreparably damaged surgeon’s hands caressing my slim and scarless ones.

“You are already great, Holly Tremor. In my eyes, you are already perfect no matter what you do. But you could be so much more than you ever imagined. No one’s ever told you this, have they.”

“No, sir. College was never even mentioned during my training. It was understood that my only path and purpose in life was to see to your every need.”

“But what about your needs? Your dreams? Your path? You want to serve me. I accept that, I love it. You will always be my submissive and my lover and my precious Pet. But whether I whisper ‘Doctor Tremor’ or ‘Little Mouse’ in bed is entirely up to you.”

“Doctor Tremor.” I repeat, tasting the words on my lips for the first time.

At last I sigh, and place the little doll back in her cream colored bedroom. I take the hand of the man beside me, and lift it to my lips to kiss its palm.

“Well, Doctor Strange, I think I’m ready for bed. Will you hold me?”

“Of course.”

And he does.

As I drift off to sleep, safe in the cradle of his embrace, the words repeat themselves in my head.

I could be more. I could do more. I could have everything, both servitude and a career. If I wished it. If I could handle it. The only thing I am completely sure of, is that I want my future path to align with his for as long as I live.


	15. Clea's Return

A little while before dawn, he gently wakes me to give me a kiss goodbye.

“I don’t think your family would appreciate finding me in your bedroom.”

“Still, I hate that you have to go. This was our last night together for who knows how long? Your wife returns today at some point.”

His lips are gentle on my forehead, and he smooths my messy hair. Then he embraces me tightly, sighing.

“I know. It hurts me too. I want nothing more than to spend every night with you. But this has to be done right to avoid her wrath. Neither one of us needs to spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders. I have enough enemies as it is.”

Suddenly miserable, I hug him as tightly as I can. Staving off the inevitable for a few more minutes. Then I let go. He strokes the side of my face and looks into my eyes.

“So much has happened these past few days. So much has changed between us. It’s going to be hard to pretend that none of that occurred. We’ve become very intimate, Holly.”

A little redness colors my cheeks, and I lower my eyes.

“I’m honored that you feel close to me, sir. I love you with all my heart. There will be moments though, won’t there? Stolen moments once in a while? A kiss. A gentle touch. A hug. I will still serve you to the best of my ability at all times. Being alone was never a problem before.”

“It might be now. She’ll sense a new tension in the air, though she may not know what it is exactly. Clea is very intelligent, and she is already suspicious of my every move.”

I glance at the door, keeping an ear out for pattering feet in the hall or the slow heavy tread of my father. But all is still save for the clink of pots and pans in the kitchen downstairs. Uncle Lester is up and making breakfast. I should help him. But this is important too.

“Master, she’s been gone three nights. Do you think she’s been with someone else too?”

He says nothing for a few moments, but he nods. Looking down at our clasped hands. And when he speaks his voice is sad. Soft.

“We don’t need to talk about that. I’d best get back to the guest room, Pet. See you at breakfast?”

“Of course. I need to get dressed and head down there now, actually. I used to help Uncle Lester prepare every meal when I lived here. It’s nice to be able to do it again and show off all the things I’ve learned since then.”

Master Strange lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, then gets out of bed and reaches for his pajama top. He picks up his Sling Ring from the nightstand and slips it on. When the fiery circle appears, he hesitates, looking back at me.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sir.”

Then he is gone. It’s hard to describe how I’m feeling as I climb out of bed myself and open my overnight bag to find a clean dress and stockings. My work dress of course, since we’ll be headed back to the Sanctum after the morning meal. Last night at dinner, Master Strange had told the family that he would portal me back here as my schedule allowed once every few months or so. The family were overjoyed to hear this, especially my parents. It removed the pain of how short this visit was to be, knowing that they would see me again soon.

I carry my clothing with me into the bathroom and take a quick shower, then towel off and braid my hair before getting dressed. When I enter the kitchen, the familiar sight of my uncle bustling about to create his customary morning feast fills me with delight.

“What can I do?”

Uncle Lester turns away from the stove where he’s turning plump sausages in a pan and embraces me, pulling me in close. I cling to him.

“I reckon you can start by tellin’ me what your boss was doin’ in your room all night. Annie snuck on down to his room round about midnight to try her luck with him, found the bedroom empty. Don’t take a genius to put two an’ two together.”

“Oh my God. Annie hasn’t changed, has she.”

“Only gotten worse, honey, truth be told. She couldn’t wait to tell me this mornin’. But you know Annie. She’ll keep quiet about it with everyone else. She’s a bitch, not a snitch. I’m just worried for you. That fella…he’s a grown ass man with a hell of a career behind an’ ahead of him. Baby girl, I love you. Goddammit, I have always loved you. Are you bein’ used? I know what you are like. I know who you are. Honey, your innocence an’ tender nature are catnip to powerful men. Took all I had to keep your Uncle Darwin off ya.”

“I…I know. I swear, Uncle Lester, Master Strange has never been anything but honorable with me.”

Uncle Lester releases me, and presses the tongs into my hand. I turn to the sausages while he takes up the whisk to beat eggs into a fluffy froth.

“Baby girl, Imma be honest with you. I like him. Your Stephen, he has an honesty about him that I respect. Heard great things about him. Ya know I was one o’ the Snapped.”

It’s a delicate subject. Those who disappeared for a few years versus those who did not. I don’t look up.

“I know.”

“Just like you.”

“Yes. I disappeared too. The only ones who stayed were Master Wong, and Pasang and Amara. Everyone else vanished.”

Uncle Lester is quiet for a little while, stirring the eggs.

“Your Stephen, he was integral in bringin’ us back.”

“Yes. He was vital. The most important, I feel. Although the world only really recognizes the sacrifice of Tony Stark. Don’t get me wrong, he was imperative as well. But it was my Master who summoned the armies of the Vanished and the sorcerers of Kamar Taj and turned the tide of the war. He is as much a hero as Mr. Stark was. But no one acknowledges it.”

“Ya knew him? Tony Stark?”

“Yes. We’ve met. I was in the great hall the day my Master brought him to the Sanctum. I was there when Master Strange and Master Wong and Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner ran out into the street to face the alien foe that threatened us. I slipped out too, I wanted to help. I witnessed the pitched battle that ensued, and I could not help. The last I saw of my Master for five years was his inert body falling to the ground, and an ugly alien telling him that he would wish he was dead. Then they were gone. Master Wong dragged me back to the Sanctum. Then, when the Vanishing happened, I disintegrated in Wong’s arms.”

“I was still here just long enough to see a cow disappear right in front o’ me. Then I was gone too. But a couple folks remained here. Your momma, and Red and Darwin and Maria.”

I stop dead, turning to face my uncle. My eyes focus on his face, and for a full minute we are quiet. Then I nod. Nothing but that. Just a nod. We don’t need words.

We turn back to our tasks.

“After the battle, Master Strange appeared in the Sanctum. He was bleeding, hurt, and in mourning. Mr. Stark had sacrificed himself to save us all. Master Wong was with him, holding him. The other servants had reappeared hours earlier, we knew what might happen. We embraced one another and we cried together. I put them to work immediately. We were alight with anticipation. No one dared even give voice to the hope. But then, near nightfall, Master Wong appeared. And in his arms, grievously wounded but alive, was Master Strange. He was taken to his room, and I went to him. And then it was just the two of us. I wept. I undressed him. I bathed his wounds. I washed his hair. I dressed him in his pajamas. I helped him stumble to bed. And then….then he was weeping. I stopped at the door and turned back. I went to him and knelt by his bed and held his hand in mine and said nothing as he told me of everything that had transpired. Despite their rocky beginning, Master Strange respected and even liked Tony Stark. He was genuinely crushed by his death. Because he saw it coming and could do nothing to stop it. Not if we wanted to win the day.”

“That the day y’all fell in love?”

“No. I loved him long before that. Uncle Lester, I loved him from the moment I met him, two years after you sent me to Kamar Taj.”

“I never wanted to send you there at all. Woulda kept you here if I’d had my wish.”

“I…I know. But I needed to go. And I’m glad I did. There was so much I needed to learn, so much I needed to experience. I don’t lament being sent to Kathmandu. It was the best day of my life, although I didn’t know it at the time.”

Uncle Lester sighs, and when he speaks again his voice is soft.

“How far have you gone?”

I have never lied to this man whom I love as much as I love myself. My voice is equally as soft.

“We’ve kissed, and we’ve been naked together, and we’ve….been intimate without making love. I know what a climax is now. He taught me. And I know how to bring him to one as well.”

“Ah God. My baby bear…. Oh Christ. There’s so much I never told you.”

“I’m learning it, by and by. My Master is teaching me.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

“Uncle Lester, I love him. I’m going to give him my virginity. This is my choice, not the Family’s. Did you really expect me to submit to the accepted method of losing one’s virginity? How did Annie lose hers? Does that sit well with you?”

“Goddammit, I woulda shielded you from that.”

“COULD you? You couldn’t even shield me from being sent overseas at the age of ten. The word of the Alpha is law here.”

“Holly….”

“I’m happy, Uncle Lester. Do you understand? I’m HAPPY. This world? It was never for me. I couldn’t have handled it. I…I’m not you.”

“I wish to God I’d come after you, Holly honey. I hope ya didn’t suffer at all when you got sent away.”

He’s turned away from the bowl of eggs, leaving them for the moment. And he reaches out and grabs my wrist to tug me against him. I fumble with the knob of the burner to turn off the stove and keep the sausages from burning. He holds me close, just stroking my hair. Emotion keeping him from being able to say anything.

I whisper against his neck, holding onto him just as tightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I needed this, Uncle Lester. You know I love you. You were who I wanted to be when I was a child. I will always love you. But I needed my own life.”

“I know ya did.” He rubs my back, then leans me away from him and looks down at me. “Cannot believe how beautiful you are, how much you’ve grown. An’ how much strength an’ intelligence you display now. The shy, reserved little thing I once knew ain’t here anymore, is she.”

“I’m still reserved, but I’m not shy. Uncle Lester, I’m fine. My life is complex, but beautiful. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

“You know it ain’t that easy. I will always worry about ya.” He holds me tight for another few moments, then lets me go, wiping his eyes. “C’mon, this breakfast ain’t gonna make itself. Your boss awake?”

“Yes. He returned to the guest room just a little while ago. Nothing happened. I showed him my dollhouse and book collection, some of my stuffed animals. He was curious about my history. But he’ll be down and dressed in a little while, I would imagine. We need to get back to the Sanctum soon.”

I begin to tend the sausages again, clicking the burner on. Uncle Lester nods, but he doesn’t say anything. As it turns out, we ended the conversation at just the right time. My mother comes pelting into the kitchen thirty seconds later, her face aglow with early morning happiness, already in her play dress. I hug her warmly and pluck a sausage from the pan to blow on it before handing it to her.

And then the family begins to trickle in. Some of them still in their pajamas and looking rumpled. Others fully dressed and ready for the day. Uncle Darwin and his daughter are nearly the last to appear, talking together in low voices, laughing about something. Annie smirks at me, but she doesn’t make a crack about my nocturnal activities. Instead, she fluffs her wild red curls and turns toward the door just as my Master appears in it.

He looks down at her, and she reaches up and playfully strokes his chest. Her tank top is cut low enough to be scandalous, and if her shorts were any smaller they’d qualify as bikini bottoms. What can I do but sigh? She really has gotten worse. I wonder if Uncle Lester is going to have her spayed anytime soon.

“Hope you slept well, Stephen.”

“I slept quite well, Miss Tremor. Thank you. The hospitality of the family is superb.”

“Oh we can be _very_ hospitable when the mood takes us. You should definitely visit again soon. If Holly’s too busy with her work, just come alone.”

Master Strange smiles politely, but the expression doesn’t reach his eyes. My heart warms.

“A generous offer, Miss Tremor. I’m touched.”

“You could be.”

“Goddammit, Annie! Lay off our guest! Sweet Mother Mary on a rockin’ horse, but you are a test o’ my patience. Sit your fanny on down, Imma serve breakfast in a minute here. Stephen, don’t you pay her no mind. She’s at that difficult age between birth an’ forty. Like a cup o’ coffee?” Uncle Lester points a wooden spoon threateningly at his niece. She only laughs and sticks her tongue out at him before going to her seat.

“Tea would be preferable, if you have it.” Master Strange pats my mother’s hair when she flings her arms around his waist to hug him too. It’s loving chaos in the kitchen until the bulk of the gathering is seated around the big wooden table. I touch his shoulder lightly while the rest of the family is distracted with their conversations, lowering my voice.

“Annie went to your room last night.”

“Quite the bullet I dodged then. She’s positively a maneater.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much at the comment. Then I am rushing to help Uncle Lester slide platters of pancakes from the warm oven and finish cooking the sausages and eggs. By the time everything is on the table and the last juice glass has been filled, ten minutes have passed. I sink into my chair beside my Master, noting that he waited to touch his food until I could join him. This small, loving gesture makes me feel cherished. Even though the room is crowded with people, for a little while it feels like we’re alone together. I resist the urge to cut up his pancakes for him.

“How do you think Mistress Clea would feel about my family, sir?” I ask him quietly, teasing.

“We ought to invite her along next time. I’m certain she would find your Uncle Lester’s patois very compelling.”

“Motherf… GLORY! Get off the table an’ sit in your chair! You need the goddamn syrup, ask for someone to pass it! Ya don’t crawl up there after it! Saint John’s head in a pillowcase, you test my patience.”

I can’t hold it back, and neither can Master Strange. We both burst out laughing, joining the family in their mirth. My mother, hardly chastened, grabs the syrup and scoots back to her chair, dousing her plate in maple sweetness. In this moment, I am so filled with love that I am surprised I’m not glowing.

It is two hours later, and we are standing in the front yard with most of the family. Aunt Maria embraces Master Strange, kissing his cheek.

“Be good to her.”

“I will, Maria. I promise. You have the number to the Sanctum. Should you wish to visit, just call. I’ll come for you myself.”

My father holds out his hand to shake Master Strange’s, and I wince when he squeezes tightly as a warning. I know how much that must hurt, with the nerve damage and the steel pins in his hands. But he doesn’t flinch. Pain is an old friend. His pale eyes meet my father’s brilliant blue ones.

Dad leans down.

“You hurt ma’ baby, Imma kill you.”

“I would expect nothing less, Mr. Tremor. She will be safe with me.”

My father nods, looking mollified. Mom is next, and she flings herself into his arms and hugs him tightly.

“Ok I will come see you soon! Thank you for taking care of my baby. Hug Bats for me if you can touch him. I never met a ghost dog before.”

Master Strange actually lifts her up as though she were Amara, and indeed there are numerous similarities between the two.

“Come and see for yourself, Glory. There are wonders beyond measure for your eyes to behold.”

“You can call me a nickname if you want. Darwin calls me Squirt and Jeeves calls me Honey Girl and Lester calls me Tidbit. And I was once someone’s Gizmo, but he went away and didn’t come back. I can be any nickname you want.”

He sets her gently down and touches her cheek.

“I call your daughter Little Mouse. You are something fierce and sweet at the same time. I’ll call you Lioness. Does that suffice?”

“Can I call you Wizard?”

“If you wish.”

Mom kisses his cheek, and it is the gentlest I have ever seen her. Her large brown eyes are warm.

“My baby loves you. So I love you too. I’ll be your Lioness. And you’re my Wizard. Safe travels back to your city. I love you. Take care. Here is a bracelet that I made from grasses.”

And she slips it over his wrist before he can protest. Master Strange touches the odd adornment as though it were a ten thousand dollar watch.

“Thank you, Lioness. I’ll wear it with honor.”

One by one, the family bids him farewell, and then they embrace me and kiss my cheeks.

Uncle Darwin shakes his hand, simply nodding, then turns and presses his lips to my forehead. Last of all is Uncle Lester, who folds me into his arms first and rubs my back.

“Love you, Baby Bear. You call me weekly, alright?”

“I will, I promise. Take care of the family.”

“Always have. Holly, you let me know if ya get in over your head. Imma come bail you out, bring you home to where life is simple. Mind your boss, do what he tells ya.”

“I will, Uncle Lester. I love you.”

He gives me one more hug, then lets me go. Uncle Darwin puts his hands on my shoulders, looking at me intently.

“Makin’ us all real proud, Holly.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Be a good girl now.”

“I will. I promise. And I’ll call home often, and write.”

He hugs me roughly. The family gathers around, everyone putting their hands on me, and it is like a benediction of sorts. I close my eyes. Had I stayed here, I don’t know what my life would look like now. As I turn to hug Annie, she whispers in my ear.

“There’s nothing sexier to a man than innocence. But if you have any questions, call me.”

“I will.” I kiss her cheek, remembering all the adventures we used to have when we were both children and the world was still new. The fun and joy I felt here, the love.

We separate, and Master Strange casts a portal to the foyer of the Sanctum. My family all gasp or exclaim at the sudden burst of light and the glimpse of another place entirely on the other side. My father picks me up and cuddles me, kissing my forehead and cheeks, then sets me down and puts my hand into my Master’s.

“I love you, Baby Bear.”

“I love you too, Dad. Always.”

And then we are stepping through the portal together, my Master holding my hand gently. I rub his wrist with my thumb as the gateway closes behind us, and the familiar scent of my home is replaced by the incense and candlewax and parchment of the Sanctum Sanctorum. We are alone in the foyer. He does not release my hand yet.

“I enjoyed that, Holly. Thank you for introducing me to your family.”

“Are you just being polite, sir? I know they’re…unusual.”

“As am I. But you seem to enjoy my company anyway.”

I reach up to touch his cheek after a furtive glance around to make sure that no eye marks our presence.

“I enjoy your company more than anyone else’s, Master. The past two days and this morning have been nothing short of miraculous. I never expected to become this close to you.”

“Come with me to the study, Holly. Clea will be back in a few hours. I want to properly enjoy you until then.”

“Yes.” I whisper, and follow him obediently. It is lunchtime here in New York, but neither of us are hungry. Not for food.

Fifteen minutes later we are lying on the low velvet bench under the bay window in his favorite corner of the study. Just kissing and touching one another through our clothing like a pair of infatuated and eager teenagers. I am out of breath, his hair is tousled, we are both in disarray and gloriously drunk on the taste and feel of one another. I am lying beneath him, and our arms are around one another.

“She could….be home at…. any time….” I manage to say between kisses.

“We will no doubt be made aware the moment she arrives. Relax.”

I do, submitting to the slow, dreamlike kisses that seem to last an hour each. I could do this forever. He is perfect. Everything that I have ever fantasized about and longed for has come true these past few days. I am addicted to this man. Each moment in his service plays itself out behind my closed eyes as he passionately kisses me, making the erotic forbidden desire that much more poignant. Eventually the kissing and touching on the bench moves to the floor, the soft carpet pleasant beneath me. I lie under him, my wrists pinned by his hands, softly sighing with pleasure as he nibbles my earlobe.

There is the sound of a door opening, but he does not draw away from me. Instead, he simply lifts his head and brings one hand up, its palm glowing. He’s not ashamed of this. He’s not hiding us. He’s ready to defend what we are to one another.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fear clenching in my heart. But it is Wong’s voice that I hear next.

“Great Buddha, you got balls. Better get off Holly and make yourself look innocent. Your wife, she just came back. Ming has her in the dining room entertaining her with food and drink. She’s a little banged up, looks like she found the fight she was looking for. Don’t worry, she’s ok. Just bruised and bloody. Asking for you. I tell her; you studying. She rolled her eyes, told Ming to bring the vodka. Gonna get drunk I bet. Holly, you come too. She needs some healing.”

Master Strange is off me and on his feet in seconds. So fast that I find myself fumbling to follow suit.

“She’s hurt?”

“Yeah, but not bad. Just some cuts. Bruises.”

“Holly, fetch the medical kit and meet us in the bedroom.”

“Yes Master.”

And just like that, things snap back to normal. I am the servant. He is the Master. Mistress Clea is home, and in need of care. My duty is to care for her. And after she is seen to, he will hold her in the bed in which I watched him make love to Lisa and in which I pleasured him. The bed in which I slept in his arms.

I smooth my dress down, lower my head, and follow Wong to the medical closet to gather the necessary items.

When we are alone, he says nothing. But his calloused hand finds mine and holds it, giving me a squeeze. I gather the gauze, the arnica cream, the butterfly bandages, the hydrogen peroxide, the antibacterial cream, the suture kit.. Wong is quiet until I have everything. Master Strange left immediately from the library, rushing to see his wife. My heart feels sad. I am breathing normally.

In the hall, I pause and look up at Master Wong.

“I’m to be his lover.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“This is just… this is just for now.”

“I know, Holly.”

“He loves me.”

“You need a hug?”

“Yes please.”

Wong embraces me, rubbing my back and holding me close against his broad chest. I say nothing for a bit, just clinging to him with one arm. The other hand holding tight to the medical supplies with which I will tend Mistress Clea. I cry a little then, but Wong keeps his arms around me, and gradually I calm down. I lift my face to him, and he wipes away my tears with his hands.

“Pull it together. You gonna be ok?”

“Yes. Yes, Master Wong. I’ll be alright.”

“You need some gin before you go up there?”

“I should be alright. Thank you. I’ll come find you after.”

He seems satisfied that I’m ok, and with a last hug he leaves me there in the hallway. I stand still for a few minutes, simply breathing, and then turn and walk to the bedroom.

They are not inside yet, the door slightly ajar, so I enter and begin to set about making it more comfortable for Clea when Master Strange brings her up from the dining hall. There’s a new purple coverlet on the vast bed. The other servants must have followed my instructions while I was away. I light vanilla scented candles and set a match to the kindling in the hearth. Bring a basin over to the bedside table and lay out the medical supplies. Gauze bandages, tape, needle and thread, sterile pads, antibiotics, painkillers. I have no idea how badly injured she is, so I don’t precisely know how to prepare. I have helped her before, of course. I’ve tended both their wounds after dangerous excursions into other dimensions, bringing a gentle touch and soft words to them here in their bed for days, until they healed enough to leave it. I will do this again tonight for Clea, and I will not complain.

Even though I am in love with her husband, and I have slept in his arms for three nights and tasted intimacy with him and experienced ecstasy with him and shared deep and emotional conversations with him. I will tend to her even though I know he is letting the marriage die and not fighting anymore to keep her. I will tend to Mistress Clea, and I will not be bitter or cruel. I will not be bitter. I will not be….

I cover my face with both hands, trying to breathe. This is hell. This is a pure, stinging hell that encompasses my entire body and soul. I know I need to force myself to calm down and be strong, but this is so damn _hard_.

There’s the sound of voices in the hall, and then the door is opened. I drop my hands at once, turning toward the entrance to see Master Strange carrying his wife in his arms. She still holds a bottle of vodka in one blood-caked hand, and she’s giggling. She is also covered with injuries. Scratches that look like claw marks, bruises, and her ankle is twisted at the wrong angle. I come forward immediately as my Master lays her down on the bed. His expression is grave.

“I really wish you’d hand over the bottle, Clea. You’ve had more than enough for one day.”

“And I wish you’d lighten up for once! I lived, didn’t I? And I brought down a tarrasque single handedly! Some celebration is in order.” She laughs, tilting the bottle to her lips again. She is flawless even in her current state of damage and disarray. I come to her side, helping Master Strange as he eases her tight purple and black bodysuit down over her shoulders to her waist. We strip it off together, revealing even more injuries. An actual claw is stuck in her side. I kneel by the bed with the forceps, focusing on the wound. Not meeting his eyes. If he’s even looking at me. His complete attention seems riveted on Clea.

Gently, I ease the claw from the wound and irrigate it with saline solution to remove any other debris. She takes the pain well, looking up at her husband leaning over her, kneeling on the bed, his hand on her cheek. She reaches up to touch him as well.

“How handsome you look when you’re worried, Stephen. Perhaps next time I’ll let you come with me and we can do battle together. Like we used to. Remember, darling? Fighting until we could barely lift a weapon. Collapsing against one another on a battlefield devoid of life, sticky with blood and our senses on fire with adrenaline.”

“Your clothing torn, your hair a glorious mess, grinning and victorious. I was so proud of you.”

“I’m covered in blood now, darling. Torn clothing and messy hair, grinning.”

“Drunk.” He laughs softly, and she laughs with him and finally releases the bottle into his hands. Absently, he passes it to me and I set it down on the floor. My chest feels tight. I keep my eyes on my work as I begin to stitch up her side, keeping the needlework neat and small to avoid leaving an ugly scar.

Clea doesn’t wince. She holds still as I work, hardly glancing at me. She is completely focused on my Master, and he is focused on her. I am invisible. That deep part of me that is taking damage from this display of affection is trying desperately to shut down. Shut this out. All of it. It’s happening right in front of me. But this is my job. Caring for both of them is my job. I have to keep repeating this in my mind in order to be an effective healer.

“I’m not _that_ drunk, darling. And I’m not that badly injured, either. Send your little servant away. I want you to make love to me, Stephen. Has the great and noble Sorcerer Supreme missed his wife?”

That comment actually causes his eyes to shift to me, and he straightens. Terrible indecision and even pain cross his features briefly, but he maintains control of himself. I meet his gaze, then nod once. It is the most agonizing thing I have ever done. He looks toward the window, out to the balcony where we danced together beneath enchanted vines just the other night. My heart is breaking for him, and for me. For this whole terrible situation. I rise to my feet, dipping the cloth into the warm water.

“Please let me at least clean you, Mistress. You’ve been through a great deal, and your injuries could fester if they’re not tended to. Master Strange, forgive me but could you give us a bit of privacy while I care for your wife?”

“Yes of course. I should tend to a few matters in order to free up the rest of the day. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

He is grateful to leave behind the tension in the room, I can tell. Without a backward glance, Master Strange moves to the door and opens it, slipping out into the hall and shutting it behind him.

Clea turns to look at me, watching me in silence with her large violet eyes. My head is bowed as I focus on the last few stitches, sewing her perfect milky white skin back together. When this is done, I begin gently sponging the dried blood from her body. I am careful not to put any pressure on the half-formed bruises. We say nothing to one another as I wash her, removing the rest of her clothing to thoroughly bathe her as best I can.

There is a bruise on her neck that draws my attention. It isn’t like the others. No…this particular breaking of blood vessels happened as a result of passion, not battle. I bathe it as well, and then fetch and apply a bit of her makeup over it to cover the evidence of her activities.

“Well?”

My eyes lift to her face, blinking.

“Well what, Mistress?”

She smiles, and it is an unpleasant smile. A knowing smile.

“I’m not a fool, little girl. Do you know, he took my virginity as well? He was so gentle that I barely remember the pain. Only the pleasure. Did you bleed very much?”

“I am still a virgin, Mistress Clea. Your husband is my employer, not my lover.”

“For now. He’ll get to it, I’d imagine. When the mood takes him. You’re of age, after all.”

“Our relationship…isn’t like that. He is married to you. I won’t lose my virginity to a married man.”

“But you want him. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t want him.”

“Mistress, you’re injured. This isn’t the time for conversation. Will you turn your head slightly? I need to finish covering the mark on your neck before your husband sees it.”

She narrows her eyes, but she does as I’ve requested. I feel anger in my chest, surveying this proof of her transgressions. Both of them were unfaithful during her time away. So why does it only bother me that she was? I dab on a little more makeup, then some setting spray. Blowing on the place to dry it.

“Why do you cheat on him, Mistress?”

“Watch your tone, Holly. Even in this state, I could kill you.”

“I know. And I long ago came to terms with the fact that my death will probably come at your hands one day. At least let me finish preparing you for Master Strange.”

Silence then, until I am done. I wipe down her other side and help her roll over to clean her back and thighs. I comb the tangles out of her hair, wash her face, touch on the expensive perfume her bought for her last Christmas. I glance at her hand, and her wedding band is gone yet again. So I open her jewelry drawer and withdraw her flashy engagement ring, a diamond that must have cost more than a new car. I slip it on her finger. A little blush on her perfect cheekbones, some red lip stain. The kind that won’t smear no matter how hard she’s kissed. When I sit back to survey her, she looks breathtaking. I draw the new purple coverlet folded at the bottom of the bed up and over her to keep her nude, battered body from getting chilly.

We look evenly at one another. Finally, she speaks.

“He doesn’t look at me the way he used to.”

“Do you still love him?”

“What a ridiculous question. Of course I love my husband.”

I feel differently about this woman before me now. Emboldened by the fact that I know I am protected. In love with her husband and protective of him. I remember the sorrow and need in his eyes when I whispered to him during our intimacy with Lisa.

“He knows he’s done wrong by you. He hates himself for it. But Mistress, he is terribly lonely. He wants you to love him. He misses you. He treasures you. If you could find it in your heart to treat him with more respect…”

“This is none of your business, Holly. And you are on VERY dangerous ground.”

“…if you could touch him more tenderly, as though his body were a precious artifact. If you could be gentle with him, laugh with him, play with him like you used to…he might look at you the way he once did.”

Why am I helping her?! Why!? I love her husband. He is willing to let the marriage die. He has given up. Yet here I am, trying desperately to get her to see reason. Not for her sake. Certainly not for mine. But for his.

Clea struggles to sit up, and I slide a pillow behind her back to lean against. She is drunk, and exhausted, and injured. But she is still in control. Her voice is tight.

“Stick to scrubbing toilets, you meddlesome little bitch. Leave the marriage counseling for someone else.”

I touch her hand, and she makes a fist.

“I want to see you both happy.”

“Replacing the staff with well trained males would go a long way toward making that happen.”

“You need to stop physically abusing him.”

“Get out.”

“Mistress Clea, you are going to lose him if you continue to treat him like an unwanted dog. That man has his pride. He could have any woman he wanted. He chose you. Tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you love him. Tell him you will be kind to him.”

“I said get out, before the other little slaves have to scrub your remains out of the carpet.”

“You are the most beautiful creature this planet has ever seen. He is enchanted by you. There is a joy greater than any mortal hearts could dream of that could be a reality for the two of you.”

“Something obviously changed during my trip. Tell me what it was, before I find out on my own and explode all over you like a supernova.”

“I found my voice. I love my employers. I respect you both. You were right, Mistress Clea. I am a submissive. I will always lower my head and accept anything the two of you wish. I will never speak this openly with you again. But I couldn’t in good conscience hold my tongue any longer. I want to see you both receive the love and comfort that you deserve. I remember when you first came here, how happy he was during those months. How happy you were. You could have that again. I’m going to go now, as you requested. Someone will come to you when you ring the bell in the kitchen. I will have dinner sent and more painkillers. I will tend to you tomorrow morning. I will do everything you ask. I know you are angry with me for meddling. Please don’t take it out on Master Strange. He deserves the best of you. He has given you the best of himself. I hope that you have a pleasant night.”

She is shocked, and indeed angry. I have no idea what’s come over me, why I spoke so freely and passionately to this woman I have been largely silent and respectful around for the past three years. I don’t tempt fate any longer, instead getting to my feet and cleaning up the medical supplies while she glares at me. I add a little more wood to the fire and set out freshly washed soft clothing for the both of them in the bathroom, to change into later. Then, with a deep bow, I turn and leave the room.

In the hallway, I lean against a wall with my eyes closed. I have possibly sabotaged any chance at a lasting relationship with my Master by having that conversation with his wife. My heart is breaking. I let the waves of pain wash over me, and I do not shrink from them. For a little while, I just breathe in and out. Remembering every little detail of the past three days. The laughter and the tenderness and the new sensations. The love. The tears. The discipline and the baths and the kisses and the warmth of his arms around me. The treehouse. His eyes. His deep gentle voice. The Council. The library.

I can’t linger here all afternoon. There are other things to be done. I have performed my duties for the Mistress of the Sanctum to the best of my abilities for now. It is time to let things play out as they will.

“Holly?”

I turn to face my Master as he comes down the hall, a plate of raspberries in his hand. The fruit he hates for the woman he loves. He sets it down on the small table by the door and reaches for me. But I step back, taking his hands in mine instead.

“She’s ready for you, sir.”

His brows knit together, and he looks down at our hands, then back to my face.

“What are you…”

“I offered advice as to how your marriage could be improved. She may have listened, she may not have. Your wife says that she loves you and misses the way you used to look at her. Be gentle with her, she’s got fresh stitches in her side.”

“This isn’t a pleasant situation.”

“Perhaps not. But it is what you need. With your permission, sir, I would like to take the rest of the night off.”

“Holly, please…”

“Everything is alright. Your happiness is more important to me than anything else in the world, Master. With all my heart, I treasure you. Go to your wife. Love her. I’ve set out comfortable clothing for you both in the bathroom. Tenzin will attend you later this evening. He’s the one on call.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’d like to have dinner at the café up the street. Then a walk in the park to watch the sunset. Maybe do a little reading.”

He looks concerned and unhappy and confused at my words and my demeanor. Once more he moves to hug me. And once more I step back, avoiding his gaze as well as his embrace.

“I will return before ten, sir. Take care of Mistress Clea.”

“What’s gotten into you? Are you angry with me?”

“Certainly not, Master. I could never feel upset at you. But I don’t want to complicate things tonight. There may be a chance to save your marriage, to rekindle the fire that has died.”

“I don’t want to rekindle the fire. It’s burning out, and it’s time that I come to terms with that.”

“Try one last time. Just to be sure. If that woman in there is your soulmate, you owe it to the both of you to try one more time.”

“But I love you.”

There’s a lump in my throat. I finally look up at him, taking a deep breath.

“I love you too. I also saw how you reacted the moment you heard she was injured. There’s a large part of you that still loves her. Tonight, let that part guide you. I meant what I said, Master. I am grateful that I am one of the women you care for. This isn’t easy, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“I’ll come to you tonight.”

“No, sir. Stay with her. Hold her. Find out if it’s still there.”

He looks down the hall toward his bedroom door, closed. His wife waiting on the other side of it, naked in bed and wanting him. Then he turns his eyes on me again. The troubled expression on his handsome face deepens my sorrow. I touch his arm.

“Have you considered that you may not be in love with me, but are simply reacting to me the way that you do because I treat you the way you want to be treated? The way you wish your wife would treat you? That maybe your heart lies with Clea, and not with me at all? You are a man who has been slowly starved of affection, respect, loyalty, deference for the past few years. You found it unbearable. I give you these things freely. You said yourself that my kind of single-minded devotion to you is a heady elixir for any man to taste.”

His jaw tightens. He looks angry now.

“You forget that I’m not some confused twenty year old with a childhood crush. I’m a man in his forties who knows himself to the core. You think I don’t also know what I want in a partner? A lover? I’ve been more honest with you than I have been with anyone in a long time. I expected you to take my feelings seriously.”

“I do take them seriously, sir. We just need to be sure of them.”

“How dare you.”

I lower my head, knowing that I’ve triggered his temper. A temper that, while rarely shown, does exist and is nothing to be taken lightly. I decide to drop the subject. I shouldn’t even have brought it up. I’ve questioned his sincerity and implied that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Of course the insult upset him.

“May I have the night off, Master?”

“Fine. Perhaps you can take some time to search your own feelings. Maybe you don’t love me at all. You came here as a timid prepubescent child, servant to a powerful man when you had never spent time with any male to whom you were not related. When a little girl grows up isolated, sheltered, and barefoot in a cornfield, she’s bound to mistake dazzlement for emotion and a crush on a stranger for love.”

His words sting worse than any blow, and the sarcastic tone under them hurts even more. He’s never spoken harshly to me before. I meet his gaze, tears in my eyes.

“Please don’t.” I whisper.

“I shouldn’t judge you harshly for your lack of sophistication. You’re still a child, after all.”

“Master….”

“You’re dismissed. However I might feel about her, I have a woman I need to spend time with.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Did you hear me? You’re dismissed.”

Utterly miserable and utterly defeated, I back away from him. Then I bow respectfully and walk away without another word. I don’t trust my voice to speak.

I can hear him enter the bedroom and close the door as I reach the top step. The lock clicks. It is a sound that shatters my soul. I love him. I know that he loves me. I shouldn’t have questioned that, not when he’s already aggravated by the return of his wife and the tension of the current situation. Thank God I make it to my bedroom before the first sob rises to my lips. I curl up in the fetal position on my bed and give myself over to crying. The pain in my chest is so intense that it is an actual, physical sensation and not just an emotional one. I want to scream. I want to run back to his bedroom and beat on the door and throw myself into his arms. I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him until I can’t breathe. Instead, I cry myself into exhaustion and then lie still. Feeling empty.

My eyes rest on the narrow window above the desk, and the nodding lilac blossoms outside it. I can’t just wallow here all night. I have to distract myself, I have to take my mind from the agony of what’s happening and where the man I love is and the cruel coldness to his voice when he admonished me for being childish. So I sit up and wipe my face. Move to the basin and splash cool water on my stinging eyes until some of the swelling eases. I change clothes, into blue jeans and a sweater and sneakers. And then I am stepping out of my bedroom and walking quietly to the phone in the foyer. The little black leather book of phone numbers that he gave to me is in my back pocket. I pull it out and leaf through it, realizing that I barely know anyone in the world beyond these walls. Finally, I dial Lisa’s number and wait.

“Hello?”

“Lisa, it’s Holly. Are you busy?”

“Just getting a little studying done, but I can put it on hold for a little while if the two of you would like to see me.”

Her voice is smooth and soft, soothing. I close my eyes.

“It’s…it’s just me. Master Strange is with his wife. She returned this afternoon. I was wondering if you’d like to meet at the Italian café up the street from the Sanctum, the one with the red awning?”

There’s silence for a moment.

“Are you alright, Holly?”

“We had a fight.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry! Of course I’ll meet you. Give me about twenty minutes, ok? Just take a couple deep breaths and try to calm your nerves. I’ll catch a cab and be there soon. Does he know you’re calling me?”

“No.”

“It’s not wise to do anything behind his back or lie to him. You’ll need to tell him that we met up later on when he’s calmed down and you speak to one another again. And sweetheart, he will calm down. I’ve seen him angry before. Never at me, but just angry in general. It takes a little while, but he’ll be fine in a few hours. Bundle up warm for the walk to the café. It’s chilly outside this evening. See you soon.”

“Thank you. I didn’t have anyone else to call. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing. I’ll be there in a bit.”

We hang up, and I open the closet to find a jacket. When I encounter his soft sweatshirt, it takes everything in me to keep from bursting into tears again. I hug the fabric to me, burying my face in it, shaking. But the moment passes, thankfully. I pull out a nondescript black coat and bundle up, and by the time I ease the vast front door open and step out onto the front stoop I am somewhat calmer. The cool air feels good on my face during the five block walk to the café. Hands in my pockets, head down, I grapple with my emotions and attempt to gain control over them. I don’t have to stay here. I could call Uncle Lester and ask to come home. Things are simpler there.

But I’d be walking away from the only man I have ever loved, and turning my back on ten years of training and servitude and loyalty and duty. It would be a cowardly move.

I can’t bear the thought of leaving. Not ever. But I can’t bear the way he spoke to me, either.

Lisa is already inside when I reach the café, looking casual and beautiful in a dark skirt and a green cable knit sweater. Actually, she looks better than I’ve ever seen her. Gone are the tight dresses and high heels and layers of carefully applied makeup. Her hair is back in a simple ponytail and she’s smiling. When she sees me enter, she gestures me over to the table she’s sitting at. I slide into the chair across from her, unzipping my coat.

“Waitress? Can we get a couple of menus and some hot coffee? Thanks.” Lisa snags the young lady walking by our table. The girl nods and heads off to procure the requested items.

“You look like you’ve been crying, honey. What happened? You don’t seem the type to fight with anyone in the world. And he was so gentle with you when we were together. The man is smitten with you.”

I reach for a napkin ahead of the tears that form in my eyes, dabbing under them to catch the drops before they spill down my cheeks. I don’t say anything until the waitress has returned and set two white ceramic mugs of hot coffee down on the table before us. She cheerfully hands us both a menu and trots off again to give us a chance to study it. I’m not hungry. But I haven’t eaten all day, and I know I need to.

God, I just want to die.

“I don’t know what happened. One moment I was talking to him about trying to fix his marriage and the next I was just stupidly blurting out that he might not actually be in love with me. It really, really rubbed him the wrong way.”

“Ouch. Oh wow.”

We sip our coffee, and in a low voice I repeat the terrible scene in the hall to the other woman while she listens patiently. Sympathetically. When I’ve finished, Lisa sighs and reaches across the table to lay her hand on mine.

“Your heart is in the right place, Holly. He’ll realize that when he’s had time to think. I’m more concerned about the way you talked to Clea. I’ve never met her, but I’ve seen her at this or that event with him on television or in the papers. She has a serious case of resting bitch face. The first few times I was called to the Sanctum, I was terrified that she’d return early and murder me.”

“She would without a second’s hesitation. She’s killed an escort before. It was awful.”

“How you manage to deal with her is beyond me. I don’t get what he sees in her, to be honest. She’s got a decent figure and pretty features, but one look at the haughty way she carries herself and the mean look in those eyes is a massive turn off.”

“He loves her. They’re cementing that now.” I toss the menu aside, looking out the window at the street beyond. “Twice. As you know.”

“Try not to think about it. You’ll only drive yourself crazy.”

“We can’t ever be together like a normal couple. Not with our different social standings and positions and backgrounds and duties. He can be with her openly.”

“So what? Look, Stephen is known all over the world for being generous, kind, fearless, wise and patient. His wife isn’t well liked thanks to her numerous public displays of anger and jealousy. Remember that interview last February when she threatened to snap a reporter’s neck for asking Stephen how he felt about being named the sexiest man of the year? I mean, the reporter barely brushed her fingers across his knee, and suddenly Clea’s rising to her feet and over five million viewers witnessed her grab the poor woman by the throat. Then the feed was cut off and went to the stand by screen. It was a scandal! How much of that bullshit do you think your boss will put up with? Honestly?”

I hide a reluctant smile with one hand, remembering how Wong kept replaying the clip on his laptop and laughing at the look on Master Strange’s face. He found the whole scene terribly funny.

I didn’t.

The waitress comes back. Lisa orders soup and a sandwich. I just shrug and order the same thing.

“How does a person…..get into college?”

She sits back in her chair, studying me. A look of delight on her face.

“You just apply. Give them your high school records. Write an essay. And pay the fees. Why? Are you thinking of going?”

“Maybe.”

“Well what does Stephen say?”

“It was his idea.”

“I’ll help you navigate the paperwork if you want to get started. Any idea what you might like to study?”

I look down at my hands, turning them over to stare at the unscarred, unblemished covering of calloused white skin.

“I think…medicine.”

“Is that you talking? Or is that him talking?”

“Little of both. God Lisa, what am I going to do? I’m in so much pain.”

“Nothing for tonight. Don’t do a thing. And avoid him tomorrow. He treated you like shit. I don’t know him as well as you do, but I do know men. I know men extremely well. He’s going to be feeling guilty. Make him come to you. Stay out of his way, delegate tasks to other employees, keep yourself scarce. Then just wait. Wait for him to come to you and apologize. And Holly?”

I raise my eyes to look at her, waiting expectantly.

She smiles.

“When he apologizes, don’t say a word. Just throw your whole weight against him and kiss him like your life depended on it. Be aggressive for once. Be desperate and passionate and demanding. Rip his clothes, you can mend them later. Dig your nails into his back, he can conceal the wounds. Explode all over him with a need so intense and so primal that it shocks the hell out of him. Trust me. I did that once, on a night when he seemed a little sad and quiet, and he responded with more fervor than I’d ever seen. He loves to feel wanted. Desired. Show him that he drives you crazy. Bite his lip. Shove him against a wall. Make him subdue you. I promise you…it will be the best night of your life.”

My eyes are huge, and I shake my head slightly.

“I can’t do something like that! It’s not ladylike!”

“Do it. Turn into a little wild animal. Be a feral cat in heat. Don’t tell him I let you in on this little secret.”

She winks at me. The waitress puts our plates down, and Lisa digs in with gusto. My Master would be pleased to see her eat like this. I glance at the clock on the wall, wondering if he and his wife are finished. Cuddling, perhaps. Whispering warm words to one another. Patching up years of fights and discord.

My soup tastes like nothing. The sandwich might as well be made of Styrofoam. I eat everything anyway, and spend almost two hours with Lisa. She tells me about how she marched into the office of the escort agency and unceremoniously quit yesterday. There is triumph in her voice. My Master gave her that liberation, that freedom.

By the time we’ve finished our meals, it’s getting dark out. I embrace her warmly at the entrance to the café, feeling a thousand times better than I did when I walked in. She kisses both my cheeks and tells me that if I ever want to get together for ‘more than just dinner’, I should give her a call. I blush. The blush only deepens when she plants a kiss right on my lips.

“I hid it well for two years. Pretending to be straight so I could get more clients. But I’m not. If things don’t work out with you and Stephen, give me a call. Hell, give me a call anyway. I like him. He’s a perfect gentleman, and if you two are a package deal I’m fine with it. There’s something about that man that transcends gender preference. Will you be alright getting home?”

“I will, thank you. Are you….are you flirting with me?”

Lisa zips up my coat for me and strokes my cheek.

“Absolutely. I’m only seven years older than you are, honey. That’s not much. We could be an amazing couple. You could even move in with me if you wanted. If things worked out. I’d love to worship that adorable little body and make you feel like a princess. You deserve it. Keep my number handy. And give Stephen a kiss from me, will you? I never allowed clients to kiss me on the lips. But that night with the two of you, when I broke my own rule and kissed him in the tub? That was mind blowing. I’d happily do it again.”

“You’re shameless. Thank you for the compliment.” I smile and hug her again, my chest warming. No one in the world has ever flirted with me before. Only my Master. I feel flattered and shy.

“Call me sometime next week. We should get together more often. You need to leave the Sanctum once in awhile, get out into the real world for a change. Find some hobbies. Hey, how about I take you to see a Broadway play sometime? Have you ever been?”

“No. Never.”

“Well I’m going to change that for sure. Have a safe walk home, sweetheart.”

She bestows one last kiss on my lips, and a passing couple audibly gives us an ‘Awwww’ as they walk by. The woman flashes a thumbs-up.

“Yay Pride!” she says.

Lisa laughs, but I duck my head with embarrassment.

“Yay Pride.” I murmur. “I don’t know if I’m…you know, gay. Or lesbian. Whatever it’s called. I don’t know anything.”

“You know how to go down on a wizard pretty well.” She doesn’t notice how that comment makes my mouth open in shock. She’s too busy scanning the road for a cab. When she spots one, she flags it down with a wave of her hand.

“I’ll see you again soon. Don’t worry about the fight, you two will be fine. Try to relax. Do a little self-care. Take a bubble bath tonight. Get in touch with your own sexuality if you know what I mean.” She winks. I have no idea what she means, but I nod anyway.

“Thank you for having dinner with me. I enjoyed the evening. You made it bearable.”

“The pleasure was all mine. See you soon, Holly Tremor.”

And then she is gone, sliding into the taxi and tugging the door shut. I watch the retreating vehicle until it vanishes among the other cars. When it’s gone, I turn around and begin to slowly walk back towards the Sanctum. Feeling lighter of spirit than I did a few hours ago. A Broadway play? A date with an attractive woman? College? The world is opening in front of me wider than I ever dreamed possible. Whether I choose to walk into that brand new landscape is completely up to me. For the first time in my life, I am free to do as I wish.

The thought of green-blue eyes and husky laughter and warm arms around me and the spice of cologne fills my head, and I sigh. I won’t walk away from the man whom I know with every fiber of my being that I love. Whatever future lies ahead of me, he is surely a part of it.

I am so lost in my own thoughts that I’m completely unaware of being followed.


End file.
